Worth It
by gum-shoes
Summary: In life, she was a warrior. In death, she is a being, a timeless myth of a guardian of the forest, of the dunes, of the ground. The Trigedakru call her the sobwe rona. Her own people just know her as Billie Kane. / Or, Kane's daughter is wrongly sent to the ground with the rest of the hundred, and their excitement to be back home only lasts a day.
1. Chapter 1

**Because the more I worked on this story, the more I realized that it isn't actually that bad. Also because I love Kane and he's a total dad.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

 _In peace, may you leave the shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels until our final journey to the ground._

Wilma Kane is no longer just a name. It is a bellow during the march into battle, hair standing on end. It is a reminder, salty tears hitting upturned soil. It is a whisper, a long sip of moonshine. It is a driving force, heavy boots leaving behind prints.

Hers was not the sole legend that arose during the dawn of the new century. That time was known for being one of destruction and creation alike - fate's two hand-holding weapons that dictate a lifetime.

The Trigedakru know her as the _sobwe rona._

The Sky People simply call her Billie.

She carried with her a wardrobe of masks, so easily suiting her identities, painting the many sides to her story. Daughter of the renowned Marcus Kane. Gunner standing tall before her enemies. Follower, advisor, friend. _Runner._

Wood, sand, snow – her feet tore across earth. To here, and back, distance be damned. She was undoubtedly their messenger, the scout. The girl who was willing to take off onto uncharted terrain, nothing but the sword on her back and the gun at her side in the face of an uphill battle.

And maybe she was too good at it. She ran herself to an early grave.

In life, she was a warrior. In death, she is a being, a timeless myth of a guardian of the forest, of the dunes, _of the ground._

They say that sometimes, when you catch glimpses of unwarranted footsteps amongst the leaves, they are hers. When suspicious shadows fleetingly pass you by in the night, she is there to help you with whatever comes next. When light in the tunnels fail and all you can see is darkness, it is her story that urges you to draw your weapon and advance.

And most importantly, never stop.

 _May we meet again, Billie Kane._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Billie Salerno is almost eight years old. She never thought that things were perfect, but she's only just now beginning to catch on.

She and her mother tread through the hall in silence. The lights aren't flickering here, but Billie knows that three sections down from here, they certainly will be. And while she has a slight spring in her step – they'd just had a rarely uninterrupted dinner with her father – a quick look to her left, at her mother, tells her that Nat isn't as overjoyed.

"What?" Billie asks. Her tongue slides across her gums to the side of her mouth, where she's still missing a few teeth. She thinks it's annoying that they haven't started growing in yet, but she's not one to complain. Margie Williams, some weird girl that sits next to her in her Earth Skills, is missing at least half of hers.

Nat glances over with a start, raising her eyebrows slightly. She shakes her head, letting her eyes flick down to the path her feet shuffle against, "It's nothing, Bill."

Billie doesn't accept this answer, but she doesn't know how to reply. They're treading through Hydra Station when she musters up something to say. "I had fun tonight."

Her mother looks over again, smiling tiredly. She reaches out and grasps Billie's shoulder, squeezing gently, "That's good to hear."

"Did you?" Billie presses.

Nat lets her hand fall back to her side. The pair skirts to the edge of the hallway as a triad of guardsmen rush past, their facial expressions ranging from panicked to irritated. Billie instinctively grabs onto Nat's arm, and they don't start walking again until the guard's are safely around the corner. A part of her remembers to be thankful that Marcus is off duty tonight, so whatever chase the guards are getting themselves into, he won't be a part of it.

Nat sighs, pulling Billie along. The machines beyond the walls can be heard humming. "Yes, Billie, it was fine."

Billie frowns at her shoes and lets herself wind around another corner. She doesn't have the layout of Hydra memorized just yet, but it seems like Nat knows exactly where to go. "Mom?" Billie asks hesitantly.

Nat hums absently in response.

The girl looks up, plucking a strand of hair away from her eyes, and squints a bit. Her mother is gorgeous. Ten years ago, before Billie was born, she must've been stunning. That would've been before the wrinkles that line her skin and the strands of gray sprouting from her scalp. Maybe even before all the tired smiles.

"Do you love dad?" Billie asks curiously.

Nat's face droops. Her eyes slide over to Billie, and then to the ceiling, and then straight ahead. She puts on a soft smile, but Billie looks past it and sees regret. "Baby," Nat starts, "Your father and I aren't together."

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter," Billie frowns, "I just don't get it."

Nat sighs, putting on a sturdy expression as she tugs Billie down a hallway. They're in Mecha Station now, breezily passing through the sections. Firmly locked doors seem to fly past, each and every one blurred.

"There was a time… When your dad and I were together," Nat says, but she doesn't delve into too much detail. Billie, of course, already knows this. There's a pause. "We're friends, Billie."

Billie frowns again, "If you're friends, why don't you like dinners with him?"

Nat lets out the tiniest of groans – probably accidental, from the way she tries to cover it up. Billie creases her eyebrows and tries to keep up with her mother's long strides. "That's enough, Wilma. Let's just get home, okay?"

* * *

Billie is nine, going on ten. She sits towards the front of her math class, staring widely at the problem printed on the tablet in front of her. She taps a few buttons, backspaces, and blinks. She doesn't understand factoring.

Jeremiah Halloway is sitting next to her, typing rapidly. There's a faint ding every time he answers right, and Billie flinches a bit. She doesn't like math.

She tries to power through the problem, and the device makes a honk of disapproval that makes her frown. Jeremiah looks up, surveying the situation, before smiling. "It's just factoring, Billie," he whispers. No one's listening, anyway. Even Mrs. Mariette is busying herself with her own tablet at the front, oblivious. Probably playing a game.

"I don't like it," she replies, stealing another glance at all the correctly answered homework problems he's racking up on his screen.

Jeremiah laughs a little. She wonders if he has a crush on her. Not that she would date him, because that's for the older kids. But, still. It wouldn't hurt to know.

She doesn't stop wondering as he leans over a bit, pointing at things and directing her through the problem. She pretends to understand, nodding without commitment. When her tablet finally dings successfully, she expects him to go back to his own desk.

He only leans away slightly. "Hey, I saw your dad on duty this morning. He seems awesome."

Billie's head snaps up so she can stare at him. Her eyes sweep around the classroom, but no one else reacts. "Shut up," she hisses boldly.

Jeremiah balks, "What? He is your dad, right – that guard?"

She nods reluctantly, but her eyes are narrowed. She doesn't like talking about Marcus with people she's not good friends with. It never used to be like that, but Nat always tells her to be quiet about it. So she listens, because Nat is the smartest person she knows.

Jeremiah doesn't let up. Stupid boys. "Why don't you wanna talk about it?"

Billie scrunches up her face. "It's not smart to talk about it," she says, diverting her eyes back to the screen. Yet another problem she doesn't understand. "Just do your work."

But all she's done is confused her classmate. "It's not smart?" he frowns, "What does that even mean?"

She wishes she knew.

All she says is, "Stop talking, Jeremiah. If I wanted help I would've asked Mrs. Mariette."

He turns, and she settles into her desk. She doesn't finish her work that day.

* * *

The only reason Billie is laying on the floor of the library is because Nat's working a makeup shift, and her usual sitter is in medical. Some sort of stomach virus.

The floor isn't entirely comfortable, but the scattered displays of chairs are all filled today. So Billie grabbed a blanket, unrolled it, and sprawled herself across it, within the view of the librarian. Just like Nat asked.

Billie thinks dully for a while. She could read. She could roll onto her back and pretend like she's on a beach, getting a tan across her shoulders. She could take a nap and pray that no one bothers her, or worse, accidentally tramples her.

There's a conversation in the nearest aisle, and she can't see who is speaking. She doesn't really care, nor does she listen in, until she hears a very familiar name.

"Brace seems pretty sure it'll be filled by Marcus Kane," a woman's voice says.

"Who?" a man grunts. Billie sits up a little, flipping her head around to try and crane her neck towards the aisle. But it's no use. So she just waits. There's a sigh, a pause. Billie imagines the woman shrugging.

"He's been a Major for almost a year. Word has it, he's pretty decent."

"Never heard of him," the man says decisively. Billie's heart sinks unexplainably, and she huffs against her blanket. An elderly woman on a nearby recliner gives her a strange look.

"Probably because he's from Factory Station. No one from around there gets much recognition anyway," the woman pipes up, and at this, Billie lets her face mold into a scowl. She knows Marcus grew up on Factory, and Billie herself might not live there, but she's still lower class in her home with Nat on Arrow Station. And Billie never asked specifically, but she knows Marcus worked hard to get the position he deserved.

Billie's old enough to know that they don't need some gossiping privileged to disrespect that.

"How do you think he did it?" the man asks.

The woman chuckles softly in reply, "What I wouldn't do to find out…"

Billie sits up all the way, facing the end of the aisle decisively. As soon as they step out, these idiots browsing for books, she's going to go up to them and… And what? Embarrass herself? Announce to the entire library that she's the rumored daughter of one of the Ark's most discussed Majors?

The pair end up leaving that aisle through the other end, and Billie never does get a glimpse of them. She doesn't sleep either, or read, or imagine tanning in the sun. She eventually settles onto her back, squinting at the lights on the ceiling and wondering how people can be so blind.

* * *

Barely one day later, Nat is picking Billie up from the library. This time, she isn't letting herself be so bored, and she's in the middle of flipping through the pages of a book that has one too many big words when her mother approaches her.

"Ready to go?"

Billie hops to her feet, leaving the book in the cart and trailing after her mother. Nat talks about simple things, how her sitter is still in medical, but she stopped by and the doctors are saying it's improving. Nothing to worry about. Her mother had an uneventful day of work. There's never _nothing_ to fix on the Ark, but today was slow. Nat says she was bored, but she shows Billie the music box she built from scrapped speakers. It's cool.

The hallways are almost eerily empty. No guards, hardly any passer-bys. Billie asks Nat about it.

"Yeah," is all Nat says at first, "There's a ceremony tonight, for your father."

Billie stops walking. "Ceremony?"

Nat sighs, coming to a stop as well. They move to the side of the hallway, not that they'd be getting in anyone's way, anyway. Habit, Billie supposes. "I was going to tell you when we got home. He was inducted as Captain of the Guard in Haverford's place."

Billie lets that sink in. A feverish smile works its way onto her face, "That's good, right?"

Nat nods, shrugging a bit, "Yeah, that's pretty good. He was the best candidate."

Billie lets her grin widen, and she blinks for a minute, waiting for Nat to say something else. Her mother seems to be doing the same thing, looking at Billie expectantly. Finally, she clears her throat, looking up at the older woman, "Shouldn't we go?"

Nat blinks, her eyebrows knitting together, "Huh?"

"We should go to the ceremony. Right?" Billie asks hopefully. Nat is silent, so she continues, "I mean, we're his family. Sort of. Shouldn't we go to support him? And – and I want to go anyway, I want to see."

Nat sighs eventually, glancing at her watch. The face is rusted over, but it still functions okay. Nat keeps saying that one day, she'll get around to cleaning it up. "Alright, look," her mother amends, "No talking to anyone. Stay with me, and just… We'll have to wait to talk to your dad, too. I'll see about finding a night we can go have dinner."

Billie clamps her mouth shut, nodding despite the uneasy feeling in her stomach. She wants to go. She really does.

She just wishes there weren't so many rules.

They redirect their path, and Billie only has a vague idea of the direction they should be going in. It doesn't go unnoticed that Nat's footsteps aren't urgent, she's relaxed. Well, probably not relaxed, but not eager, either. Just reluctant.

The doors slide open, the hall opening up before them. Everyone is standing, the seats probably having been occupied an hour ago. Guards are stationed in line, and Billie watches them salute. There's clapping, but she can't really see the stage.

"Oh," Nat says, and Billie looks up. Nat's face falls a fraction, and she frowns, "It looks like he just finished."

"We missed him?" Billie asks, not even bothering to hide her disappointment.

Around them, workers and officials alike are conversing quietly, but the volume spikes up so that the patriot music playing from the speakers can barely be heard. As Nat nods and squeezes her hand, Billie diverts her gaze, searching the floor for a conversation she can listen in on. There are quite a few.

"Well. I guess all we can do now is hope for the best."

"The 'united twelve stations' part? Spoken like a true politician."

"We'll have to see about this one."

It seems like there are a couple more speeches to be made, but Marcus is done. She catches a glimpse of him on the corner of the stage, his uniform crisp. She can't make out his new badge from here. The crowd around her is already leaking through the doors.

Nat tugs her along, "Come on, Bill. We'll see him later, promise."

Billie tries to find him again, but there are too many tall people, heads hovering in her line of vision. She just wants to make eye contact, maybe share a congratulatory smile. It isn't everyday your father is promoted to the uppermost rank there is.

But Nat is insistent, and the crowd pulls her along like a current does to a lone swimmer. Billie walks away.


	3. Chapter 3

**I know it starts off kinda slow, but the next few chapters will start to introduce a lot more of the show's characters and pretty soon the hundred will be on the ground. Anyway, thank you for reading!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Billie thinks of Monty Green as a pretty good friend. She's never really talked to him outside of class, or anything, but he's still nice. Shy and nice, and he doesn't pry at her. She likes that, a lot. So when they're all divided into groups for Job Day, Billie immediately singles him out as her only friend in the group. They've been sticking together all morning.

Eleven years old. That's how old you have to be to take the tours on Job Day, when you're supposed to start thinking about the future. Billie doesn't know what she wants to do, and she's already seen a lot of these parts on the Ark from exploring with Nat. She's hoping that maybe it'll help a little. At the least, she wants to have fun.

She's stuck between deciding if Jasper Jordan is fun or not.

Monty's best friend wasn't technically supposed to be part of the group, but after a discreet scuffle and a quick bolt between groups, Jasper managed to switch quietly. Billie almost wants to admire the skinny, twig-like weirdo for it, but she keeps her face neutral as he plants himself on Monty's other side.

It's fitting that their group's first stop is to Agro Station, since both Monty and Jasper live here. Their commentary is quiet enough that the chaperones and teachers can't hear, but the kids in their class do. Giggles rise every now and then, and Billie grins once or twice.

By the end of the tour, Billie decides that agriculture isn't really her thing. But maybe Jasper isn't so bad, when he's cracking jokes instead of fidgeting and trying to stare at the pretty girls.

They're passing onto Alpha Station when Billie is drawn aside.

It's a man, one she's never seen before. His chin is gray with scruff, and his shirt is tight around the fat of his stomach. He looks like he could be drunk, but Billie thinks he might be one of those people who constantly look like that.

"I know you," he drawls, "You're Kane's daughter. Yeah, we know who you are…"

Billie forgets about having fun. She just stares at him in panic. But the man sneers at her once, shaking his head when their chaperone politely asks him to leave. Then he's gone, and Billie is left staring at the door he disappeared through.

Monty's jaw is agape, his eyes wide in concern. "What the heck was that?" he asks her.

Billie turns, taking in the doubtful and scared looks of her classmates. Jasper's eyebrows are all the way at the top of his head. She looks back to Monty and wipes her face, frowning at her shoes, "Um, I dunno."

Monty doesn't believe her, but he accepts it. He just gives her a small smile, "Alright. Come on, we have to keep up."

Jasper is pretty silent for the rest of the tour. It's not as fun anymore.

When she gets dismissed, Billie hightails it home. The words are flying from her mouth before Nat can even greet her, and Billie can't explain why her heart is pounding. Is it because no one is really supposed to know that Marcus is her dad? The one-kid policy is strict enough as it is, but when the parents are separated (so Nat says), it garners attention. Judgment, really. And Marcus is the Captain of the Guard. Nat tells her that they need to keep quiet about it.

So how come that stranger knows her?

Nat takes the news grimly. Billie's nerves don't ease up for a long time.

* * *

A month or two later, Billie comes down with some sort of flu. There's no outbreak, or anything, but it still sucks. She's been in the medical wing for a day, coughing up a storm. The doctors can't really help her. She isn't cleared to have more than a couple pill capsules to ease her discomfort.

Some of the nurses make light conversation when they're not busy with other patients, but otherwise, Billie falls in and out of sleep.

She's in the middle of eating, picking at the soy rations on the tray in front of her, when there's a commotion through the window of the ward. The nurse frowns, letting her hands fall from where she was fiddling with the equipment attached to the bed next to Billie's. The woman doesn't look concerned, but that doesn't make Billie feel any better as the curtains around her cot are drawn closed. The nurse leaves, but the door is left cracked open.

Billie strains to hear what's going on, if only because she's bored out of her mind.

"Is something wrong?" a vaguely familiar voice asks.

"We can hope not, Abby," the new voice is very recognizable. Billie perks up. "We're only here for an inspection."

An inspection? Billie sighs to herself, but she's already sitting up higher in her bed, trying to fix her hair and wipe the tiredness away from her eyes.

Abby pauses for a while. Billie thinks she might be a doctor, that skinny one with the braid. Seems likely. "You'll be happy to know that everyone in the ward is doing fine. Let's keep it short this time, Marcus."

Billie hears Marcus clear his throat, "Excuse me." She doesn't catch the orders he tosses out to the men he has with him.

Before Billie can lean forward in her seat any farther, trying to see through the shades blocking her view through the window, there are footsteps, approaching rapidly. Her heart picks up. What will she say to him?

Marcus is presumably stopped again. Abby's voice is much quieter now, but they're right on the other side of the door. Billie holds her breath, as if it'll help her hear clearer. "She's awake, but not alone. You should keep it brief."

Billie exhales, and within seconds, the door is sliding open. Marcus strides in, his hands clasped behind his back as he surveys the ward. The doctor lady, Abby, peers inside and closes the door behind him, her lips pursed.

Marcus looks fresh. His hair is trimmed neatly and the pads of his uniform fit snugly, making him seem much more regal than he might normally be. Now that she's finally close to him, Billie can see the badges lining his shoulder, signifying his newfound importance.

There's a sleeping man four beds to Billie's left. There are more, beyond him, and Billie wonders how well sound travels through this room. She wants her dad to sit on the foot of her bed and tell her she's going to feel better, and answer all of her questions about his new position. Nat says he's busy, but that doesn't mean Billie can't miss him.

She gives him a weak smile when he finally finds her, and he straightens. He sweeps one more glance around the room before making his way over. As soon as he's concealed behind the curtains, his face softens.

"Hi," Billie says, her voice squeaky.

"How are you feeling?" Marcus asks carefully. Billie feels her heart swell.

"Fine," she chirps, though her throat is sore. A cough rises up again, but she forces it down, "The nurses say I'll be able to go as soon as my symptoms clear up."

Marcus lets a soft smile pass across his features. He steps forward, and his eyes flick around her enclosure. "Good to hear," it looks like he wants to say something else, and Billie waits. But it doesn't come. Instead, the ward is filled with the hacking cough of her neighbor.

"Congratulations," she whispers, beaming and hoping it's loud enough for him to distinguish. "You earned it, so don't let -"

Marcus dips his head, but cuts her off gently, "Thank you, Billie. I'm glad you're doing okay."

She looks up at her dad, a wavering smile on her face. So he came here for her. She lets her eyes widen hopefully, and whispers, "Can we come over soon?"

Marcus smiles at the ground, nodding a little. He reaches forward and pats Billie's arm, but he's stepping back all too quickly. "Soon," he agrees, his voice hushed. "Feel better."

One last glance is sent towards her, and then he's turning on his heel, wandering farther down the ward. Billie lets herself smile, then it falls, and she finally lets out that cough. She tries to listen in as he walks around, asking the patients several questions, inspecting their medicine intake and the rations they've been given.

Eventually, he makes a remark about everything seeming 'orderly,' and he's pushing his way back through the doors with nothing more than a sweeping glance.

This time, they firmly shut behind him.

* * *

Nat is late.

Forty minutes ago, she should've been standing in the doorway, knocking politely. Amelia Hemsworth would've gotten up from her seat at the table sorting through papers and opened it for her, welcoming her inside with a grin. They would make small talk, Nat would ask Billie if she was ready to go, Billie would already be standing at her side with her bag.

Amelia keeps assuring her that Nat is fine. She probably got stuck in an inspection or something. Maybe she's picking up overtime and forgot to let them know. Either way, Billie is welcome to stay as long as she needs.

Billie has set her unfinished homework aside. Her bag is zippered, her shoes on. But no matter how hard she stares at the door, no knock comes.

Fifty minutes late.

She gets up, taking a few steps towards the door before changing her mind. "Can I have some water?" she asks Amelia.

"Sure, honey," her sitter replies, not bothering to point her in the right direction.

Billie pours herself a cup, sipping tentatively. She looks at the door for a minute before dragging her feet towards the table where Amelia sits, peering over her shoulder at the papers. "What are you working on?"

"I'm sorting through some figures for work," Amelia says, laying her hands down and smiling a little at Billie, "Tedious work, but it makes the analysis a lot easier."

"Huh, cool," Billie says, draining the cup. She sets it on the counter, grabbing a rag and wiping it out thoroughly. Maybe more than thoroughly. The cup is certainly dry when she's done with it.

An hour and ten minutes.

Billie is restless. She's rotated through the different seats throughout the apartment, and there aren't many. Her foot taps against the floor. Amelia seems like she's getting exasperated, but she does a good job of hiding it. She reminds Billie that it's probably just a harmless complication, but Nat will be here soon.

An hour and thirty minutes.

There's a knock at the door.

Billie springs to her feet, and Amelia comes to a stand, too. She smiles at Billie, as if to say, "I told you so," and crosses the room. Billie snatches up her backpack, tugging the straps over her shoulders as she follows her sitter to the door.

Everything slows down after that. Sounds become whispers through a foggy daze, sights become fuzzy. There's a searing burn in Billie's chest.

There are two guards standing on the other side of the door, their eyes dark. The men ask for their names, and Amelia provides them, her face paler than Billie would've liked to see. One asks for Wilma Salerno while the other peers at the file on his tablet uneasily.

"What happened?" Billie hears herself ask.

There was an accident, they say. An error concerning an airlock that Nat was working with. The alarm went off a moment too late, her coworkers were fighting to pry the doors open. But a different set of doors opened instead.

Nat was sucked into space without a second's warning.

Amelia tries to grab at her, but Billie worms away. She won't face the guards, won't face her friend. Won't listen to what they're saying, to their condolences, to their requests for her to follow them.

She screams when the man tries to put a hand on her shoulder, smacking it off.

How could they let that happen, she yells. How could Nat be gone? She shakes them off, demanding that they let her see her mother.

They try to explain, though Billie already knows. Her mother is gone. No body, no trace. No Nat.

Amelia is crying. Billie is blindly furious, helpless. The guards try to soothe her, try to calm her down and tell her that they're taking her to her father's. She kicks and wails. She doesn't want Marcus. She just needs Nat, needs to wake up, needs this to be a lie.

 _She was accidentally floated._

It takes a long time. But Billie quiets down. Amelia manages to squeeze a hug in there one more time, but Billie doesn't respond. The guard, the gentler one, holds her shoulder as they hastily steer her through the hallways. They arrive at the familiar door of Marcus' apartment on Alpha Station within due time. Billie's still crying.

He isn't home.

The guards sit with her inside, letting her have the sofa to herself. She picks at a growing tear in the fabric, not caring if Marcus will be upset with her. Nat's name bounces around her skull.

She isn't sure when he finally makes it home, but the guards are immediately dismissed. Marcus shakily sits down across from Billie, and they just stare at each other.

This isn't good. This isn't how things are supposed to go. This is wrong.

 _Nat, Nat, Nat…_

The night passes sleeplessly. Billie's sore from sitting so rigidly in her chair. Marcus's shoulders have since slumped, but he doesn't let his eyes drift closed. Wordless support. She isn't sure if she likes it.

Nat's arms are the only ones she wants to run into, the only eyes she wants to look into, the only smile she wants to see.

But Marcus is the closest she's got, now.


	4. Chapter 4

**These glimpses into Billie's life on the Ark are almost over, but they're pretty crucial for building her background and character. I hope you enjoy everything so far! Leave a review if you want :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Billie's belongings have been moved to Alpha. Everything she couldn't take had to be taken to the exchange, traded for credits. Goodbye, Nat.

The couch has been traded out for one that comes with a mattress, since there's only one bedroom and Marcus doesn't seem keen to upgrade. She doesn't mind.

Things aren't so bad, after all.

Billie is quiet. She doesn't talk for a few days, doesn't go to school. She doesn't leave the apartment until later, apprehensive towards the unfamiliar Alpha halls, the strange neighbors, the bustle of important figures as they move between their homes and the Go-Sci Station.

Marcus works almost all the time. He leaves early in the morning and comes home well beyond dinner. Billie goes to school in the morning and stays safely at home afterwards. She doesn't mind the quiet. There are a lot of books to read, anyway.

Living with Marcus is easy. He's been trying. Offering her everything he knows how to. She doesn't pester him with questions about his work anymore. She goes to school, does her work, eats his food and sometimes helps with stuff around the apartment. Marcus doesn't have a lot of stuff.

Billie is no longer Wilma Salerno, but Wilma Kane. There's no reason for her to hide anywhere but in plain sight.

She thinks about Nat every day.

But time is progressing, forward as always. Doesn't mean Billie can't be sad.

* * *

There's an officer, David something or other. He's not nearly as high-ranked as Marcus is, but he invites them over for dinner regardless. Billie is apprehensive, expecting her dad to decline. She's surprised when he doesn't.

Billie is thirteen. She's spent a little over a year in Marcus' care.

She doesn't talk to her friends from Arrow anymore. Monty is nice to her at school, if sympathetic, but his friend Jasper always gives her weird looks. Everyone gives her weird looks.

So she isn't sure how she feels when she discovers that David something or other has a son her age. Nathan Miller, he introduces himself as, full name and everything. She tells him to call her Billie. At this, he raises his eyebrows, a fleeting smile crossing his face, and says that he prefers Nate, anyway.

David looks pleased. Marcus has a tight smile, but he's nodding.

Billie recognizes Nate, of course. She doesn't have any classes with him this year, but last year, he was with her for Introduction to Geography. Billie never spoke to him. He's always been the quiet boy from Alpha whose dad is a guard, who has friends but keeps to himself. Billie kind of admires that.

David's food is delicious compared to the crap Marcus tries to cook. Nothing is burnt, the soy beans that Billie usually eats plain are mashed together into a tasteful paste.

And it's not even that bad.

Her dad and David talk about work, using vague details. They share a few laughs, a few fond smiles. Billie thinks David may have grown up on Factory, too.

Nate sits across from her, piling his food into his mouth. They make eye contact sometimes, and he'll roll his eyes when David tries to get the table smiling. Billie just laughs under her breath and answers the questions her dad's coworker directs at her.

It's pretty nice.

As they smile their goodbyes, Billie finds herself hoping that she's made a new friend.

* * *

 _It's not his fault, it's not._

Billie keeps trying to tell herself this, over and over as salty tears carve paths across her face. Her hands are wrapped around her head and she bawls at the ceiling, silent screams.

It wasn't an accident.

 _It's not his fault, not his fault…_

Nat is dead, and it wasn't an accident.

Three hours ago, Marcus retreated back into his apartment. Early. He looked drained, circles under his eyes, twitching shakes of his head. Billie looked up from her seat on the couch, slowly pointing the remote at the screen in front of her. The room fell silent.

"Billie, we need to talk," he eventually told her.

Billie is almost fourteen. She's old enough to know, now. She's ready to know. It's safer for her to know. That's what he says.

Marcus upgraded in ranks, people got angry. Marcus, the nobody from Factory. His family, the forbidden attachments. Marcus gained power, Nat died to bitter hands. No warning.

He still doesn't know who did it, who hacked the airlock system, who hijacked the control panel. It may have been the workers, who felt abandoned, who felt ready to lash out. It may have been the privileged, who felt violated, abrasive towards the unforeseen addition to their government.

Sons of bitches. All of them.

 _It's not his fault. It's not his fault…_

Billie cries all night, her heart wrenching this way and that. Marcus has since squeezed her arm, a remorseful squeeze, and retreated to his own bed. Billie wakes up before he has to go to work, dressing in her usual clothes. She combs her hair and runs her toothbrush across her teeth, barely bothering with breakfast.

Marcus probably hasn't slept. Billie looks at him, tells him she's going to school. She'll see him when he gets home from work.

She's quiet all day. Doesn't speak to Monty, ignores Jasper, forces a wave in return to Nate's hello. She ducks out of her last class just before the alarm goes off, high tailing it to the airlock on Mecha. The one Nat died in.

It's not closed off anymore. It seems like whatever issue they found was fixed. Maybe because they knew exactly what to look for.

Billie stands at the abandoned doors and stares through, her hands at her sides. It's closed. No one is outside, tinkering with the Ark's exterior. No one is inside, keeping an eye on the control panel, adjusting pressure and counting down to the second they have to pull the doors shut.

For the first time in her life, Billie is sorry that she was born.

* * *

Billie has been spending a lot of time in the library.

It's not just because she's not old enough to stay home alone anymore. She just likes it there. The books and the quiet, it's peaceful. And the perfect time for her to do some research.

Recently, she's been putting a lot more effort into school. Her grades have been staying up, all of her teachers giving her great marks and fond comments. Nate, a straight B and C student, makes fun of her for it. But he doesn't tease her when she tells him it's because she wants to become a judge. He just nods, telling her that it's cool, she could be a good judge.

Billie is in the middle of highlighting a paragraph of the essay they're reading for World History. She convinces herself that it's interesting, and maybe it is. But she's heard enough about patriotism lately.

Suddenly, her table has another occupant. It's that blonde girl. Billie is pretty positive her name is Clarke, like the expeditionary that braved the unexplored Western America back when there were only thirteen colonies. Billie sees her around sometimes, they sometimes smile at each other and make small talk. They're both regulars in the library.

"Good morning," Clarke says politely, smiling.

Billie smiles in return, raising her eyebrows, "Morning."

"How are you?" Clarke extends her greeting, looking expectantly at Billie. Maybe they could be friends.

"Pretty good," Billie answers, running a hand through her chin-length hair. She just cut it recently. "Just trying to work through this World History thing."

Clarke sags visibly, "You have Sommits, too?"

Billie relaxes into her chair, easing up at the mention of their common class. "Yeah. She's taking her sweet time on this North America unit."

"I've been putting that assignment off for ages," Clarke admits, "World History is not my thing."

"It's not that bad once you get started," Billie remarks. She pauses, then, "Oh, yeah. How are you?"

Clarke almost snorts, "Just fine. Hey, not to be weird, but I don't know if I ever really got your name. I mean, since we've been talking for a few weeks now."

The brunette grins, "It's Billie."

"Oh, that's right. I'm Clarke." Billie isn't sure what to say next, if anything, but Clarke sighs. "You probably already knew that," she says, almost apologetically.

Billie frowns, "Nah, I didn't know for sure. I mean, I was pretty sure, but…"

Clarke is looking at her strangely. Billie lets her mouth drift shut. The girl speaks up, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but are you Marcus Kane's daughter?"

Billie tenses for half a second, and then nods, humming in affirmation.

"Oh, okay," Clarke's lips form a tight line, and she smiles hesitantly. "Well, our parents work together. My mom's on the council, too."

Oh. This is Clarke, as in Clarke Griffin.

Billie knows her mother, Abby, the doctor and councilwoman. She looks over at Clarke, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. For a while there, it seemed like they could be friends. Library buddies. Maybe they still can be, or maybe not. Probably not if their parents are arguing like everyone always describes.

Billie just smiles uneasily, and Clarke returns it. The library is considerably quieter.

* * *

"Okay, if you could spend a day in one place, where would it be? Any place, like on earth before the war," Billie says expectantly, glancing over to Nate, who's fumbling with his pockets, a frown on his face.

He scoffs, "That's actually your discussion topic?"

"Uh, yeah," she frowns, "And since you're gonna have to answer anyway when I present on Tuesday, might as well figure it out now."

"C'mon, Billie, no one wants to think about that," Nate shakes his head, pulling out a baggie with all the credits he has leftover from the Exchange. He counts them briefly, a tiny frown on his face, and follows Billie around the curve in the hallway.

"I've always thought about it," Billie tells him, "I would want to go to a big city. Like, Paris or New York, just to see all the different skyscrapers and murals, and whatever."

"That's dumb," he rolls his eyes, "We've literally lived in a giant, floating city our entire lives."

"Pretty sure the Ark doesn't count, jackass."

Nate ignores her, "Why not visit something actually natural? The Grand Canyon, or that really big waterfall -"

Billie raises her eyebrows, and then grins triumphantly, "Niagara Falls? What happened to not wanting to think about it? Admit it, Nate, it's a good project. What's yours, anyway?"

His eyes widen in exasperation, "I swear, if I hear you call me Nathan one more time –"

"You were just fine with 'Nate,' like, a month ago!" Billie protests.

"That was before the other Nathan and I started getting mixed up," he complains, hunching over the keypad outside of his apartment to unlock the door. Billie briefly glances at the guards gathered outside of his neighbor's door for an inspection. The door pulls open, and they tumble inside, swinging their school bags onto the floor. He's already moving to the tiny restroom unit towards the back of the apartment, and she's already kicking off her shoes by the door.

David is lounging on the recliner, but they take his surprising presence in strides. Nate falters, hanging around the doorway as he looks to his father, "They sent you home?"

The man sighs, lowering the volume on the television and sitting up a little. "I'll be fine to work tomorrow, and they're only halving my rations from what I missed today," he says, his voice clogged from his cold. "How was school, kids?"

"Horrible," Nate supplies cheerfully as Billie responds, "Pretty good."

She snorts, dropping onto the extra chair in the living room. She leans towards her friend's father, pointing at him, "Alright, David. You get to go to earth for a full day, where do you go?"

Cold or not, he's quick to answer, "To a good restaurant."

Billie laughs, looking to Nate with raised eyebrows. He just rolls his eyes, a grudging smile on his face as he turns away. David stops him, calling, "Before you do anything, Nate, would you grab me the extra pillow from my room?"

Nate disappears with a mere nod. She smirks at his back, yelling, "Yeah, _Nate._ "

"Shut the hell up, Wilma," he retorts.

* * *

Billie is awake on her cot, sitting up in the dark. There's a flickering light from the clock on the wall, and the ceiling blinks every so often at her, but it's silent.

There are footsteps outside the door, and Billie shifts her attention to it. Minuscule beeps tap away, gears clicking. The metal slabs slide open momentarily, and a hunched over Marcus drags himself inside. He doesn't turn the lights on, probably thinking Billie's asleep. He just shuffles to the closet, where he lays down his boots, tugging his jacket off.

"Hey, dad," Billie says as softly as she can.

Marcus tenses, but relaxes quickly. He turns around, and she unfolds her feet, coming to a stand. She flips the lights on, raising her eyebrows. "Long day at work?"

"Much longer than I anticipated," he mutters slowly, setting his belt on the counter. He looks more and more worn down as the days go on.

"Everything okay?" Billie asks carefully.

He shakes his head, "Nothing you should be worried about, Billie. What are you doing awake?"

Waiting for you, she thinks. She shrugs.

Marcus sighs, "I won't be seeing you tomorrow morning. There's a council meeting and I have to arrive early." Billie settles back onto her seat again. The council had a meeting less than five hours ago, they shouldn't need another so soon. He raises his eyebrows, "Do you have everything you need for lunch tomorrow?"

She rolls her eyes. She always just takes a tiny container stuffed with their rations to school. Always has. Marcus doesn't know how it works, he's never helped her with it and doesn't seem to comprehend her system. It's not complicated.

But, clearly, he and the council have more important things to be concerned about. She just can't figure out what it is.

A sarcastic smile tugs at her lips as she gives him a look, slumping in her seat as she does so. Waiting up was a waste of time. Marcus just sighs, trying to lighten the mood with a smile, "Fine. You should get to sleep. I'll see you sometime tomorrow night."

Something's wrong, Billie knows. But she just dips her head, "Okay, goodnight. Let me know if I can help with whatever's going on."

"Sleep well," he says tiredly.

Billie watches him go, a frown on her face.

* * *

Billie catches sight of smooth blonde hair at their regular table, and springs across the room. "Okay," she declares, "I talked to my friend's dad, who's a judge, and did some more research, I've got it all figured out. Two more years of classes, two of training, then I take the exam. If I pass, I get put into a position, minimal pay, you know. Then from there, I just have to keep studying so I can -"

The woman looks up, her eyes wide and taken aback. Billie falls short. This lady has blonde hair, yeah, but she sure isn't Clarke.

"I'm sorry?" the stranger asks, her eyebrows hidden behind her bangs.

Billie clears her throat, "Um, oh. Sorry, I thought you were someone else, sorry…"

She trails away, circling the library. It doesn't take more than a few minutes to discover that Clarke is nowhere to be found, even though they made plans to hang out today over a week ago.

Maybe she forgot. Billie convinces herself that it's okay.

It's really not.

She doesn't want to read any of the books on display, she really just wants to talk to Clarke. She waits for almost a half hour, rotating between empty tables, before walking through the exit empty-handed.

A few days later, she finally works up the courage to ask Marcus about it. She never explicitly told him that she considered Clarke to be a friend, so when she does, he raises his eyebrows and sets down the spoonful of paste that was on his way to his mouth.

"Clarke Griffin?" he asks, his eyes narrowing as he tries to comprehend her question. His lips have fallen open.

"Yeah," Billie nods, scooping some of her dinner into her mouth. She wipes her chin, raising her eyebrow expectantly, "I mean. I haven't heard from her or seen her at school, and she's Abby Griffin's daughter, so I thought…"

Marcus closes his mouth, his lips forming into a tight line. His eyes flutter closed, and then he looks at her closely, "You thought I might know where she is."

Billie raises her eyebrows, "Do you?"

"Clarke is being held on Prison Station," Marcus says eventually, "And before you ask, that's all I know."

Or all that he's allowed to say.

Billie absorbs the news slowly, her jaw dropping right along with her heart. Clarke Griffin? Her name and the words 'Sky Box' don't mix well. She can't even comprehend the idea of Clarke committing a crime, much less getting caught.

It dawns on her that Clarke is seventeen. Whatever she did, she has less than a year to live because of it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to everyone who's read this far! The next chapter will have to do with Billie's arrest, and after that, the ground. Also, I have almost everything through Season One written, so every time I finish a new chapter, I'll post one here. If you want to review, it would mean a ton!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Everyone older than fourteen has off of school for Unity Day.

Billie, now sixteen, has been doing this for a few years. She knows the drill.

Marcus is always patrolling on holidays, organizing events and keeping everyone in line. So Billie spends it at her second favorite apartment, better known as the Miller's.

Nate isn't home yet. Wherever he is, David can't say, but they assume he's off at the exchange, probably fishing for some last minute accessories to bring tonight. The last time Billie asked, he said he doesn't have a date. That doesn't mean he's not going to do everything he can to look as cleaned up as possible.

She's been hanging around on the couch, watching a streaming of old movies on the main channel, talking easily with David. He's a sweet man, one of the best. Billie wishes she could have met his wife.

"So," David starts, just as one of the fight scenes ends. There's a wide, expectant smile on his face. "What are your plans for the night? What will you be wearing?"

Billie breathes out a laugh, drawing her eyes from the screen, "Same as last year."

"That purple dress?" David raises his eyebrows, "I remember that, it's a good color. Same shoes, too?"

"Might as well," Billie responds, "Everyone usually goes barefoot after the first song."

He sighs, leaning back and smiling wistfully. "I remember my Unity Day dance days," he begins, and she stops him.

"Okay, David, I've already heard plenty about your Unity Day dances," she grins, shaking her head, "We're not gonna get into any trouble, don't worry."

"I'm not worrying," David puts his hands up, "I'm just letting you know right off the bat, I don't condone anything even a little bit illegal tonight. That means no underground alcohol, no drugs, no tipping off the DJ, no gambling or inappropriate dancing -"

Billie laughs loudly, cutting him off, "Oh my god, fine! We've learned from your mistakes, just stop talking."

David grins triumphantly, "They weren't just my mistakes. Your father was a little out of control back then, too."

Billie shakes her head, smiling despite herself as she leans her head back into the cushions. The movie is at the back of her mind now, as David's voice turns to quiet laughter beside her.

She's really thankful for the Miller's.

There's a pounding at the door, and their conversation drops quickly. Nate would just key in the code. David frowns, but doesn't look too concerned. She wonders if maybe it's a surprise inspection, since those seem to be happening more and more frequently lately.

There are guards on the other side of the door, four of them. But Billie knows full well what an inspection looks like, and this isn't it.

"David Miller," the first says. Billie vaguely recognizes him as Gall, a Lieutenant she's seen her dad walking home from work with. Gall's eyes comb through the doorway, squinting suspiciously. Billie feels her heart clench up as the officer looks between them, "Put your hands on your head and step aside. You, too."

Billie scrambles to her feet, and David asks, "Gall, what the hell…?"

"Search the entire damn place," Gall grinds out. His cadets nod, brandishing their batons and filing through the apartment. Billie tries to breathe regularly. This isn't a routine inspection.

"Gall," David says carefully, "What is going on?"

"Nathan Miller," Gall barks, "What's the last you saw of him?"

Billie feels her heart freeze. David's frown is livid, he struggles to answer, "Less than two hours ago, he was on his way to the exchange. Is he missing?"

"On the run," the Lieutenant corrects. One of the cadets shouts something about the bedroom being empty. Gall doesn't answer. "You, Kane?"

Billie barely moves. She blinks rapidly, her voice shaking, "Um, I didn't – Nate was at school yesterday. Econ. He went home after, what…"

"Gall," David repeats, a tremor in his voice, "We're talking about my son. What's going on?"

The Lieutenant curls his lip, marching towards the kitchen. He doesn't venture far. Maybe he's discovered that the apartment isn't really big enough for us to hide a full grown teenager and get away with it. He spins on his heel and says, "Your son has been using stolen key cards to gain access to restricted areas. He broke into storage forty minutes ago, there are reportedly missing rations."

Billie and David shake their heads.

"Where is he, David?" Gall asks, a threat underlying in his voice.

"He's not here," David forces out, his eyes blinking away redness, "He – Gall, you have this wrong. This is my son, we both know, he would _never_ …"

Billie is silent. Her heart is thumping away in her chest, expanding with every second. It just might burst. Nate is on the run from the guard. Nate supposedly broke the law. Has he broken the law before? _What the hell is he doing?_

They're going to find her best friend. They're going to throw him into the Sky Box. She's never going to hear from him again.

"He's not here," a cadet announces. They all gather in the doorway again.

Gall narrows his eyes at them. "You don't know where he is? You haven't heard from him?"

Tears are already slipping, and Billie shakes her head remotely. David is still besides her. Gall asks again, and she kicks into motion, her head whipping back and forth. She clasps a hand over her mouth and strangles a sob. David dips his head, murmuring a quiet "no."

Billie squeezes her eyes shut. Gall steps closer. "If you do…" he says, "Do your duty, Chief."

The doors close behind them. Billie is immobilized, her body shaking with sobs. Idiot, Nate, idiot, idiot…

David grabs her arm like he needs an anchor, repeatedly wiping his face. There are tears in his eyes, an immense sadness, a choking gasp at the back of his throat. Billie pulls her best friend's father into a gripping embrace. They stand there until the doors open again, and even though they can hear the entrance code being slowly dialed from outside, they know it can't possibly be Nate.

They pull apart and face Marcus. He's alone, looking disgruntled and mildly sad. His head is lowered, his eyes tired.

"They found him?" David croaks.

Marcus nods. "A little under twenty minutes ago in our apartment. I'm sorry."

Billie crumples.

* * *

The Guidance Officer tells Billie that she needs to decide what career she wants to chase after so she can start an apprenticeship. She can't. She doesn't feel attached to anything.

She's been working hard for the past few months, studying, keeping to herself. Marcus might just be her closest friend. Monty and Jasper are both gone. Billie isn't sure where they went, but she has a strong feeling that it has to do with something criminal.

That's always the case, isn't it?

"You'd probably make a good member of the Guard," the Guidance Officer suggests. Her name is Ms. Laurel. Billie doesn't like her. "You might even be able to be mentored by your father."

Billie doesn't answer.

Ms. Laurel sighs, "Are you interested in politics?"

"No," she says honestly, letting her eyes lift a bit. She hates politics.

"Okay," Ms. Laurel purses her lips, referring to her paper apprehensively, "Well, Wilma. We've discussed a lot of career paths today, but there's no turnout. You excel in all of your classes; you're clearly one of our more brilliant students. All I need is for you to learn how you want to apply that to the community."

Billie lets that sink in, but doesn't emerge from her silence. Ms. Laurel stares at her closely, a perplexed look on her face. Finally, she leans forward, sighing, "Let's look at it this way. Surely you must've had a career path planned out at one point?"

Billie leans back in her rigid chair, uncrossing her legs. She wants to shake her head, but instead she says, "Yeah, I wanted to be a judge. Except now all my friends are in the Sky Box, and they won't be coming back out. So, no, I'm not following through with that idea."

Ms. Laurel looks shocked. She sits stiffly, laying her hands on her knees as she stares at Billie, her mind searching for an appropriate response. Billie doesn't care. The woman says, "I see. Well, that is understandable."

"And I really haven't had any other ideas since," Billie remarks, "So instead of wasting time, why don't you just hand me that booklet and I can look at my options."

The woman before her looks sufficiently uncomfortable. She raises her eyebrows, looking down to the printed catalogue in front of her. It lists all the jobs available on the Ark. Ms. Laurel clears her throat, "Very well. That… Yes. We'll meet up again in ten days."

Billie grabs the catalogue, coming to a stand. She doesn't want anything to do with the Ark at the moment. She's had plenty of history classes. No modernized government on the ground ever executed anyone for breaking into a few mostly harmless supply closets.

The Ark sucks.

Billie lets herself out.

* * *

Marcus is getting on her nerves. There's supposed to be a slot, every other month, for visitors on Prison Station. She's talked to David, and he's going. Clarke's mom is probably going. All of Billie's friends are probably going. Everyone but Billie, because Marcus isn't letting her.

"Billie," he says evenly, but there's a warning behind his eyes, "You need to stay home today."

"I have a right to go see my friends," Billie hisses.

"Visiting Clarke Griffin is out of the question," Marcus's voice rises.

"You realize that she'll be eighteen in six weeks? She'll be floated before the next visitation day!" she yells, hands on her hips. There are tears pricking at her eyes, but Marcus just stares at her with a well-practiced neutral gaze. Billie grits her teeth, "Alright, well what about Nate? Or don't you remember my best friend?"

"It's best for you to not see either of them," the Vice Chancellor says firmly. He looks at her closely, his voice hardening, "Do not try to argue with me on this."

"Give me one reason!" Billie shouts, "Just one, that's all I need!"

Marcus stops. He turns around, frustration evident, "Billie, don't be foolish. Just because you're not in the Sky Box doesn't mean you're not in danger. You can't be seen stepping out of line. Some people would jump to criminalize you just for visiting! So no, you aren't going today. In fact, for the next eight hours, you don't have legal access to anywhere near Prison Station."

Billie stares at him incredulously, but this time, she doesn't have anything to say that will keep him from leaving for Go-Sci.

* * *

There's a party down on Arrow. It's weird, going back, but Billie doesn't let herself think about it. She hardly knows anyone here. She didn't even technically get an invitation. But the Agro kids brought moonshine, and that's excuse enough.

It's the underground type, with almost muted music, where voices can't be raised too high. Everyone makes due, dancing and laughing and playing games.

Billie lounges in a chair by one of the tables, a tin cup in her hands. The moonshine burns her mouth, but she keeps pouring herself refills. A few kids rotate between her table and others, and conversations vary from small talk to undeniable flirting, but Billie keeps her face neutral and assures them that no, she isn't interested in socializing, and no, she isn't interested in sex.

She and Nate used to talk about the different kinds of drunk people. He used to go to parties, probably a lot like this one. This isn't her first, either, but she never got around to going with her friends.

Billie thinks (and Nate would probably agree) she's a boring drunk.

"Hey," some girl collapses into the chair next to her, an intent look in her disoriented eyes, "My friend pointed you out… You're, um, Billie Kane."

Billie sets her tin cup on her thigh and looks coolly at the girl. Her head is spinning, and the music sounds a lot louder than it actually is. The room seems more crowded than it was when she first sat down. "So?"

"We," the girl hiccups slightly, frowning, "We want to know why your dad's such a dick?"

Billie sneers, snatching up her cup and draining it. The burn is fading. She wants more, but she's not going to dare. She slams her empty cup on the table and stands, pushing her way past the girl without a word. It would feel great to try her hand at punching someone.

Neither of them mention her staggering steps, but Billie keeps a maintained face as she struggles her way across the room, weaving through the crowds. Marcus won't be home tonight. Or in the morning. She doesn't have to go to school.

Her head hits her pillow an hour later, everything blurry around her, and she passes out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Bit of a longer chapter, but they're finally on the ground! Things will obviously escalate from here. THANK YOU to those of you who reviewed/favorited/followed this, it's really encouraging. I'm super glad you like it so far :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Billie is trudging home, her dark hair fanning over her eyes. Everyone stays out of her way.

The guards, apparently, being an exception.

She rounds the corner, her eyes already seeking out the door to her apartment. She doesn't even need to think about the password at this point, it's practically muscle memory. But the doorway is blocked, swarmed by cadets and a Lieutenant that she doesn't recognize, and she stops. This isn't how regular walks home from school are supposed to go.

Billie considers turning back. She can go to the library instead, and let the guards figure out that nobody's home on their own. Marcus should be at Go-Sci, anyway, and she really doesn't want to get involved, even just by pointing them in his direction.

Of course, one of the cadets sees her before she can make up her mind, his eyes widening a fraction. Billie exhales, watching his elbow jut into another cadets shoulder, before he has the sense to force out, "Lieutenant."

They all turn around. Billie counts five, which is only a little out of the ordinary for whatever this is. One of them puts his hand on his baton, but the short man with the gelled hair and beady eyes steps forward, his eyes cautiously dark. "Wilma Kane," he says, more as protocol than anything else. Billie shuffles her feet.

"Do you need something?" she asks, twisting the strap of her bag. She's not uncomfortable – if anything, dealing with guardsmen is her element – but she's certainly confused. "You should be able to find my dad at Go-Sci today."

"Yes, we know," the Lieutenant says tightly, giving her a pursed smile. They all move forward, some of the cadets looking nervous. "We need to speak with you, actually."

Billie blinks, frowning, "What for?"

His expression hardens, and he tilts his head up, "You need to come with us."

She freezes, scrutinizing this man's face. A bunch of guards show up at her door, asking for her to go with them? Not a chance. She squares her shoulders, tilting her head, "Well, I'm entitled to an explanation, Lieutenant."

He's in front of her in an instant. His posture is borderline threatening, but Billie manages to keep her face cool. "You're being placed under temporary arrest. You'll be further questioned when we arrive in the Government and Science Station."

Billie hardly notices the cadets forming a circle around them. Her mind is working too hard on other things. The Lieutenant is looking at her still, and she glares back. Something is going on, and she's in the dark. She might not like it, but her best option is to let them take her to Go-Sci. That's where Marcus is, after all, and if anyone can help sort this out, it's him.

So she clamps her jaw shut and lets them walk her through the Ark, her hands clenching at empty air. The cadets enter pass code after pass code, and the hallways open up to Go-Sci.

The guards herd Billie through Monitoring Station, and she looks around for any familiar faces as discreetly as she can manage. Most of the screens are promptly shut off as soon as they're through the doors, workers pausing at their keyboards. This is somehow off-putting. What could they be looking at that's so secretive? Hallway security cameras?

"Shumway!"

Billie's heart skips a beat, her shoulders sagging in relief. She finds Marcus on the opposite side of the room, and he breaks away from his companions to quickly cross the room, his eyes shifting between her and the guards escorting her.

The Lieutenant, Shumway, steps up, dipping his head, "Councilman."

"What's happening here?" Marcus murmurs, his voice strained.

"Wilma is being brought in for questioning regarding a case," Shumway replies, his eyebrows creased, "You should've already been briefed on this."

"I haven't been," Marcus says, his eyes wide as he looks to Billie. She bites her lip, her head shaking as she stares at him. He looks like he's struggling to find something to say.

Shumway clears his throat, "Well, Kane, if there's nothing else."

"There must be some sort of mistake," Marcus tries. Billie's heart sinks.

Shumway shakes his head shortly, and Billie decides that she hates this man. "There's not, sir. You'll be informed when the investigation is closed. Excuse us."

"Wait," Billie finds herself blurting, "Dad, I don't know what's going on – I didn't do anything!"

The cadets are tugging at her arm, forcing her deeper into Go-Sci. She wants to stay right here, right where she can see her dad. A man she thinks might be Sinclair leaps up from a desk and grabs Marcus's arm, leaning in and muttering a lot of long sentences Billie can't hear. Marcus just nods faintly, his defeated eyes latched onto her retreating form.

Billie spins around again, elbowing one of the cadets out of her way so she can look back, "Dad? Do something!"

Shumway steers her out of Monitoring, and Marcus still just stands there, his face slack. They're in a darker hallway, and she can't see him anymore. Her heart hammers against her chest. She tries to breathe, tries to minimize the wrenching feeling in her gut.

 _What the hell, what the hell…_

Billie's been scared before. But not really like this.

* * *

Her cell is bare. A tiny, round window on the roof. Sometimes she sees blackness, sometimes there are speckles of stars. Sometimes there's a mass of blue and white and green, and Billie is left wondering what part of the world that used to be.

There's a cot. A roll of paper towels. Everything else is just floor and wall and ceiling.

Billie can knock on the door, and a guard will come. They'll take her to the bathroom or to shower and to eat her meals, which are even less flavorful than the usual rations the rest of the Ark eats. They don't really let her interact or see the other prisoners, but she catches glimpses of kids she recognizes in passing sometimes.

She's always sent back to her cell, where she can't stretch her legs and she can't use her voice. An attempt at someone else's life calls for solitary confinement, these days.

Prisoner 321 has had a couple of shitty days.

Shumway kept his 'questioning' pretty straight forward. He laid out the facts. Two nights before, an attempt was made on former mechanic Cuyler Ridley's life. Years ago, Ridley was on a task force with Nat. Billie's fingerprints were found all over the scene, and she fits the assailant's description almost perfectly. So just where was she two nights ago?

'Drunk at an underground party full of minors,' was, of course, not the thing to say to the Lieutenant. So Billie shrugged, claiming she was at home cleaning.

Shumway just wanted to close the case. He didn't care to know why she did it, but if. And it seemed as though he was already convinced of her guilt from the start. There was nothing she could have done.

Billie was being carted down to Prison Station before she could form a case for herself.

Wrongly accused and convicted – add that to the list of things that have gone horribly wrong in her short lifetime. Shumway didn't look too remorseful to put her away; maybe he actually believes she did it. Billie was sobbing by the end of it.

She turns eighteen in three months. She'll get her review, not that she trusts it'll amount to anything. If she gets lucky, she'll get released, probably score a job as some sort of janitor. And if she's not, it's straight to the floating chambers for her.

She won't get lucky.

Billie just lays on the floor all day, doing her best to squint at the planet as it orbits before her eyes.

* * *

Five days and four nights. That's all Billie sees of her cell.

She's in her usual position, head against the cool floor, feet spread out. If she points her toes, she the tips of her boots can hit the wall. Her cell isn't particularly big.

Billie's eyes are dry, but they're the kind of dry that comes after spending a long time crying. She misses Nat, she misses her dad. And she's scared in a way that she's never been before.

There's a mechanical beeping sound, and Billie's heart picks up considerably. Her spine stiffens, but she doesn't pull herself to a stand, not yet. Before the guard is even completely through the doorway, he's saying gruffly, "Prisoner 321, stand up and face the wall."

Billie looks up at him, her eyes wide. She tries to squint at his face and figure out what he's thinking, because she just ate breakfast and she didn't knock for anyone. There's another one in the doorway, his hand propped against the baton on his belt as he eyes the cell.

She sits up, slowly coming to a stand, but she doesn't face the wall. Instead, she looks between them, two unfamiliar faces. They're clearly prison guards, but not the one's she's been dealing with. "What's going on?" she asks warily.

The man in the doorway looks beyond exasperated. He rolls his eyes and straightens against the wall, sighing heavily, "Just face the wall, Kane."

"No," Billie says as firmly as she can, swallowing, "Tell me what you're doing."

"Hold out your right arm," the cadet next to her says. He looks like he's waiting for her to make some sort of move, to try to dash past the doorway guard and escape. She clenches her fists at her sides, trying to tell herself that running isn't an option, and glares at them.

The cadets exchange a look, and then they're both on the move. The one in the doorway has some sort of case that he's carrying, and he pops it open, but Billie doesn't have time to look at its contents. The second guard is pulling his baton out of his belt, and the defiant expression melts off of Billie's face.

They don't give her another chance. The one closest grabs her shoulders forcefully, spinning her around. She clamps her mouth shut and stumbles, but manages to stay standing as her hand is snatched tightly. Her heart is pumping violently.

"Whatever you're doing, stop it," Billie attempts to say, but she's never held any real authority and now is no exception. "I don't turn eighteen -"

Billie cuts herself off with a high-pitched yelp. A searing pain climbs up her arm, a pricking burn that sets fire to her wrist. It's a stark contrast to the cool metal of the bulky bracelet that now encases her arm.

Billie gasps at it, her face contorting into disbelief. Her feet are moving before she can comprehend anything, like they have a mind of their own, and she's dodging past the cadets to get to the doorway, her wrist heavy. "What the fuck is going on?"

The Sky Box is roaring. It's alive in the worst possible way. There are guards and prisoners fighting and struggling, dragging their feet and kicking. Every single door is open, every single e floor crawling with action. Everything is so far away, but all too overwhelming.

Billie looks to her left. She's at the end of the hallway, she could just run, and it wouldn't get her anywhere but it would feel so good. And then to her right, where there are guards, and some of them are looking to her warily, but most are focused on getting to the head of blonde hair that is standing, stranded against the railing. "Clarke?" Billie calls, her voice shaking.

Clarke whirls around, her eyes wide and the loose strands of her hair flying. Her eyes are huge, her cheeks flushed. They're probably equally terrified. "Billie -"

Two pairs of arms encase her in deathly strong grips, and Billie stumbles forward immediately, trying to wrench her arm free. The guard behind her grunts, curses under his breath. She doesn't realize that she's moving backwards until they're around the corner. She only kicks harder, warranting another outburst from the guard.

The other one, the one who stood in the doorway before, doesn't look so bored now. His eyes are angry, and as he stands in front of her with his baton raised, crackling devilishly, he speaks clearly, "You're all being moved. Keep struggling and this will be a lot harder for all of us."

Billie's eyes are filling with tears, and she scrunches up her face, "This doesn't happen! There's nowhere for us to be moved to!"

Neither of them respond.

She doesn't know what to do, but suddenly, her arms can't stay still. Her feet can't stop moving. She's fighting every step of the way, but his arms don't give and he doesn't stop dragging her along. One of her boots limply follows along while she pulls the other up, placing a kick to what she hopes is his crotch.

Within seconds, she's stumbling from his arms, lunging as far away as she can manage. A muffled curse flies from the cadet's mouth, but Billie doesn't feel very sorry. She doesn't know where she'll go, but anywhere is better than here. Home, she should go home –

"There's no time for this," one of them grits out. Arms are wrapping around her shoulders again, and Billie yells, but then there's another pricking sensation. Her neck hurts strangely. She can hear the cadets grumbling and cursing under their breaths, but it's dull compared to her heart beat. Her body clamps up, and her knees hit the floor.

Everything slows down, and her eyes bulge but at the same time can't seem to stay open. And within seconds, the shouts from the Sky Box are fading, and everything is quiet.

* * *

Billie's head is tossed to the side, and her eyes fly open. Her first gasp of air is all she gets, because within seconds, she stops breathing altogether.

Everything is shaking. The seat beneath her trembles violently, a leg that isn't her own kicking against her knee. There's a painfully loud rattling sound, murmurs and whimpers of unfamiliar voices that all feel too close. She can't see their faces very clearly against the dark glow.

The voice begins to register in her mind, and she spins her head around wildly. Her entire body is strapped tightly down to her seat, but her hands are free. She almost forgets about the speaker, her hands scouring the belts for some sort of lock, but all she finds are buckles. Simple, plastic things. Her fingers fall short against the buckles, and she looks around again.

"…indeed, for mankind itself. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would've sent others. Frankly, we're sending you because your crimes have made you expendable."

It's the Chancellor. Billie recognizes his voice a second before her eyes latch onto his image, a flat screen projecting before a chamber of teenagers. She doesn't care about whatever they're yelling about. Jaha is speaking, and what he says isn't always important, but Billie is terrified enough to know to listen now.

"…Those crimes will be forgiven; your records wiped clean. The drop site has been chosen carefully. Before the last war, Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain. It was to be stocked with enough nonperishable's to sustain three hundred people for up to two years," Jaha continues.

Billie just shuts her eyes.

She can't focus on much of anything anymore. She's going to die. Jaha's voice fades, but it's not because she's spacing out. There's a commotion, shouting and laughter that she can hardly see, much less focus on. "Yeah, Finn!"

 _Mount Weather is life. You must locate those supplies immediately._

Everything is spinning.

They're going to Earth. Billie and a drop-ship full of other criminals are being launched to an irradiated and uncharted planet. No training. No warning. No preparation. They won't be floated when they turn eighteen - they won't even make it to eighteen.

They'll be lucky if they aren't dead the moment they hit the ground.

Billie's head is being thrown around, the straps digging into her jacket. The drop ship around her shakes violently, Jaha's voice fades in and out, the cheers have died and now there's only yelling. "Your one responsibility is to stay alive," Billie hears, and then all hell breaks loose.

A body suddenly slams its way into Billie's line of sight, two of them actually. There's a crash and a snapping sound, but she can't see past the steam that is rising across the entire floor. Jaha's voice becomes mangled and unintelligible, but she can hardly care when there are kids coughing, yelling to see if the floaters are okay, screaming for mercy.

Sparks fly, raining down over them like the heavy showers that Billie never got to experience, and a yelp finally escapes her throat as she ducks her head frantically. She can't hear anything over the metal that's practically caving in around her, rattling intensely, the sobs, the cracking sounds of machinery crashing.

She's certain she's going to die.

Until everything slows down forcefully. She feels it before she knows what's happening, the giant thud, the sudden silence as everything falls back into place. No one moves as the lights lift slowly, flickering back to life.

The boy next to her is murmuring wildly under his breath.

"Listen," someone says, "No machine hum."

Billie thinks she might recognize that voice, but it's coming from behind her and she can't concentrate over her panicky breathing, anyway.

"Whoa," another familiar voice whispers, and she wonders if it's Jasper Jordan, "That's a first."

Billie's mind is slow to register this. No one else's is. They're all fumbling almost instantly, wrestling with the buckles on their seatbelts and shooting out of their seats. If the volume rises, Billie doesn't notice. She's stuck in a daze, staring as everyone around her swarms away from the neat lines they were seated in, becoming a mass of panicking bodies rushing for the exit.

"The outer door's on the lower level! Let's go!"

Billie blinks rapidly, her head dropping forwards. She moves her hands slowly, the buckle falling apart beneath her fingers, and she winds her shoulder out of it. They're on the ground - they've landed on the ground.

She's one of the last to step onto the ladder. Her mouth stays clamped shut, mostly in fear, as she climbs, like she's in a daze. Nobody at the bottom makes room for her, so she shoves her way into a tight space. She's tall enough to see what's happening.

"Yeah, like what?"

It's a girl she's never seen before, pretty and small, ferocious eyes. A boy – no, he's older than that – holds her shoulders from where they stand tall by the door. Billie doesn't pay them much more attention.

The door is huge. Firmly shut, with insulation and mechanical locks. All it takes to open it is a lever. One simple push and they could all be dead, or more alive than they've ever been. They're actually on the _ground._

Billie isn't thinking of Jaha's words, or Marcus, or the Ark at all, for that matter. She's thinking about what's beyond that door, the one that towers above her. That lever is the key to everything she ever imagined, everything Nat always ranted about.

Something is murmured, there's a quick change in the atmosphere. And suddenly, Billie is being blinded by a light that's nothing quite like anything she's ever seen before.

The door lowers slowly, letting the light funnel in over their heads and into their eyes, brightening the world that they never knew could have existed. Billie is still. No one speaks, no one dares move. With a final thud, the door securely hits the ground, and they're all left blinking in awe at what it reveals.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

It's fresh. Everything is fresh, and vibrant, and bright. Billie doesn't know how else to describe it. She can't express the way the sun filters light through the green branches of the mossy trees, or how the dirt and plants and _life_ stretches out before them until they can't see it anymore. Everything is green and everything is tall and lively, there isn't a hint of a machine in sight, no cadets or metal boards or empty, black skies.

It's earth.

And it feels good.

"We're back, bitches!" the girl's cry is long and loud and carefree, and Billie finds herself laughing, because that feels good, too.

The delinquents pour out of the drop ship, no longer able to simply stand still. There is clean air and miles of exploration beneath their very noses, and in this moment, they're all thinking the same thing, running straight for it.

Billie's feet are light as she drops off the ramp, her boots slamming into the dirt, but it isn't the sensation she expected. The ground beneath her feet is uneven, soft soil crumbling beneath her weight. There are plants and twigs and probably bugs, all thriving on the ground. She can't believe she's standing on the ground.

She walks in a daze. Her eyes are trying to take everything in, but all she can think about is how the dirt feels against the bottoms of her feet.

Eventually, she comes to a standstill. The soil beneath her sinks as she stands there, and she stretches her hands out as her sides, craning her neck so she can breathe towards the sky.

She stands like that until she's listening closely to the sounds around her. Footsteps land heavily in the dirt and bodies push through gentle leaves. There's dancing and obnoxious chanting, yelling, sobbing. The laughter is infectious, and Billie turns in a circle, wanting to drink in every second spent in this place.

After a while, she turns her attention to the delinquents around her. Boys and girls, kids and young adults alike. She doesn't see Clarke, or anyone else she might know. What about Monty? His friend Jasper? Anyone? She starts walking, one name at the forefront of her mind.

He's hunched over, his hands on his knees. He's not chanting or jumping, but there's a giant smile on his face, crinkles around his eyes as he looks around. His gaze manages to fly straight over Billie, to the trees and back to the kids he's laughing with, but she doesn't mind. To see him, after everything, is just…

Billie runs.

Her boots twist against the uneven dirt and her eyes are burning. All she can think about is how overwhelmed she felt, how her heart threatened to climb from her clogged throat, how crushing the feeling of losing her best friend was. And now here he is, on the ground with the rest of them, smiling his crinkled smile like it's a year ago.

Nate's form is solid as she collides with him, sending them both stumbling. Her arms throw themselves over his shoulders and her face digs into his back. Maybe if she squeezes him hard enough, his ribs will cave in and he'll feel just as suffocated as she did.

"You son of a bitch," Billie mumbles, her eyes feeling a lot drippier than they did a few seconds ago. He's stiff under her grip, but his shoulders are sagging as every second passes. "You're such a fucking idiot, I can't believe you, Nate, oh my god…"

Nate's arms grow strong against her back. She can feel him press his face into the sleeve of her jacket, and she hugs him tighter.

"Billie?" he says, but he already knows.

"We're on the ground," Billie replies, because she doesn't have it in her to keep attempting to yell at him. She repeats it and her voice cracks, and she lets out the happiest sob that's ever escaped her mouth. "I thought we were going to die," she tells him, "I was sure – we're here…"

"What are you," Nate begins, acting like he's about to pull away. She quickly grips him tighter. Screw him and his short hugs; it's been a year. "What are you doing here?"

"We're on the ground," Billie repeats firmly.

Nate laughs, and it's such a free sound, it doesn't echo off of any walls or get hushed by a hallway supervisor. She shuts her eyes. Her cheeks might burst from the size of her smile.

"I missed you," she tells him, "I missed you so much. I can't believe -"

"You too, Billie," he interrupts her, giving her one last squeeze before gently prying himself away. She holds him at an arm's distance away, and they just stand there for a second, staring at each other.

A full year.

Finally, Nate grins fondly and shakes his head, swatting her arm. Billie grins disbelievingly and smacks him back, and this time Nate's the one who pulls her into another hug. "I missed you a lot," he says, pulling away too quickly. He raises his eyebrows, "Are you okay?"

"You're kidding, right?" Billie snorts.

He rolls his eyes, but neither of them can seem to get rid of their grins. They stand shoulder to shoulder and just look around for a minute. "I meant," Nate says, "The hell are you doing here?"

"Oh," she remarks, nodding slowly, "Yeah. They managed to link me to some attempted murder. They had proof and I didn't have an alibi, so…"

Nate pauses. "So you were framed," he says, and it's like a pin drops.

Billie frowns immediately, her shoulders tensing. She looks over at him, "What?"

He looks completely serious. He just shrugs, sighing, "Come on, you're Billie Kane. People know you, and your dad. That was never really a good thing, right? They probably wanted something from him."

Billie licks her lips, staring at the ground. Nothing can dull the fact that they're on the ground, with grass climbing up to their ankles, but if anything's going to come close, it's this. "I mean… I don't know. Sure as hell didn't do it, though."

Nate seems to accept this. He never really pushed anyone for anything. "How long were you in for?"

She scoffs, shaking her head, "Less than five days." He raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement, whistling under his breath. She continues, "You, on the other hand…"

Nate looks over innocently. "Huh."

It's Billie's turn to roll her eyes, and she puts her hands on her hips, rounding on her best friend. "It's been almost a full year since your dumbass trip to storage," Billie accuses, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

His face falls, his uneasy smile sliding off his face, "Yeah… Uh, look, Billie, I didn't want to abandon you guys like that…"

"You mean you didn't want to get caught," she stops him.

Nate stares evenly at her, finally giving her a slow nod, "Yeah. I'm really sorry. None of that was supposed to happen."

Billie tilts her head. She wants his apology to mean more to her, she does. Neither of them can take back or fix any of it, not the crime or the lonely year that followed it. So she just says decisively, "We'll talk more about this later. Just know that you're lucky my dad kept me from visiting days, otherwise I would've gone and kicked your ass."

"Nice try," he corrects, smirking a bit, "But you'd be the crying best friend, not the vicious one."

"I would've been both," Billie smiles. After a pause, she shakes her head, "At least you're okay, right?"

Nate claps her on the back, "Of course I'm okay, Kane. We're on the fucking ground!"

She throws her hands in the air and cheers, finally joining in with everyone else. Besides her, he just laughs loudly. This all just feels _good._

* * *

Billie is sitting on the floor. Most of the work has already been done. Half of the food is no good, the other half is going quickly. There are extra textiles and thread, some tools, a lot of fried monitors and control panels built into the walls. Billie doesn't know what to do with them, but she doesn't want to sit outside at the moment.

She's staring at her wristband. Silver and bulky, uncomfortably tight. It pricks at her skin every so often, and she wonders what she looks like to the Ark.

Go-Sci is probably packed, important people with clearances only. Analysts, like her old babysitter, doctors, like Clarke's mom. All of the tech operators. Probably the entire council, which includes her dad.

Marcus is certainly there, marching around, evaluating all of the reports, stressing, drained. Billie knows he can't afford to only pay attention to her, whatever her wristband is transmitting. He's busier than that. She just wishes there was a way to contact him, tell him she's okay. The ground is beautiful.

But she knows better than to think that everything is okay, at least completely.

Billie heard what Clarke said. Take the wristbands off, and the Ark will think you're dead. She doesn't know how her friend knew that, but she does know that in the past few hours, too many of the hundred have made it a personal goal to get theirs off.

Marcus thinking she's dying is the last thing she wants.

She hasn't gotten a chance to talk to Clarke. The blonde clearly knows more about the situation than Billie does, but she didn't stick around the drop site. Monty and Jasper are gone, too, off to find Mount Weather like Jaha told them to. Some guy Finn that she's vaguely heard of and that girl, Octavia, too.

Billie doesn't want to worry about them. But she does anyway.

A rations pack is tossed on the ground in front of her, and she looks up, her eyebrows raised. "Hey," she says, "Where'd you find that?"

Nate sits beside her, gesturing for her to pocket it. "Someone has a stash upstairs. Looked like they wouldn't mind sharing."

Billie looks over at him, a tiny smile on her lips, "And the hat?"

He grins, running his hand across the beanie to flatten it. "Might've taken this, too."

"All that stealing on the Ark is coming in handy after all," she jabs, zipping up her pocket. They must've fitted her with new clothes before they loaded her onto the drop ship, because she's never seen this insulated hoodie before.

Nate shakes his head, grinning grudgingly, "Funny."

They settle into a quick silence. Besides her, he pats down his pockets, probably recounting everything he's collected. If everything goes to plan, Clarke will be back with food from Mount Weather within the next day. But it's good to prepare.

The first floor of the drop ship isn't as empty as it could be. The corner, where Billie balances on a ledge, her feet dangling, is completely vacated. Some kids run in and out, but now that the scavenger hunt is mostly over, it's the rare apprentice trying to fiddle with the wires (unsuccessfully), or digging through the pile of tools and scrap metal.

"Listen," Nate says after a minute, "You should try to keep your head down."

Billie frowns, kicking her feet again. "Why? What's going on?"

He's quiet for a little while, waiting until one of the delinquents sorting through the pile scurries out, some sort of blade in her hands. Then he mutters, "Wells is getting threatened."

"Jaha?" Billie asks.

"Yeah," Nate says, shaking his head, "I heard he got himself arrested to come here. He's an idiot, but that's not the point. No one likes councilmen's kids, and there's nothing down here to stop them from doing what they want."

"Yeah, Nate, I get it," she tells him, picking her feet up and curling her arms around her knees. She's all too aware of the threat posed to her just for being related to Marcus Kane. "I'll be fine."

Nate pauses, then says, "You should make some sort of weapon."

She frowns, looking over incredulously, "I'm serious, dude. Worry about yourself, not me."

"I don't have anything to worry about," he insists. They don't get a chance to say more, because heavy footsteps are climbing the ramp. A boy with greasy hair and dull eyes strides into the ship, flanked by two other delinquents, all looking expectant.

"Miller," the first says loudly, as another crosses his arms across his chest. "C'mon, we want to talk to you outside."

Billie glances to Nate, keeping her face as placid as she can. He hops off of the ledge, eyeing down the three guys at the entrance. "Yeah, sure, Murphy," is all he says.

"Your girlfriend can come, too," Murphy adds, his eyebrows raised. Billie wrinkles up her nose, leaning further back into the wall as she watches, unimpressed. Nate glances over his shoulder at her, a strange look in his eyes. She thinks she understands his warning, though. _Stay here._

Murphy is already on his way out, but one of his buddies sends Billie a lingering sneer, which she returns. They're almost completely out of her line of sight when she notices that they aren't wearing wristbands.

Her heart sinks, and her arms unravel, letting her legs hang limply over the ledge again. She digs into her pocket, tearing open a rations pack and dumping half of it in her mouth.

* * *

The next time Billie leaves the drop ship, it's because the entire drop site is roaring, taking up chants that she doesn't understand.

"Whatever the hell we want; whenever the hell we want!"

Billie peels down the ramp, looking for a familiar face in the mob. It's dark, and there's a giant fire in the middle. Wells is standing rigidly by the pit, but she can't see his face, only that Bellamy stands in front of him. He has a smile on his face, an army at his back. The crowd is chanting wildly, happily encouraging whatever's going on.

"Whatever the hell we want; whenever the hell we want!"

She's utterly lost. She spins around, but she doesn't see Nate, and Clarke isn't anywhere in sight, which can only mean that they haven't returned. This is about something else entirely.

The storm sweeps in from nowhere, like a switch is flipped. A gust of wind forces its way into their camp, the trees parting obediently, but before any of them can react, the loudest sound they've ever heard is ripping through the sky, making the ground tremble.

A few of the delinquents scream. Billie thinks she might have yelped.

And then it starts to rain. Layer after layer of water being dumped over their heads, almost immediately extinguishing the fire and soothing the chants.

Billie stands stiffly for a minute, wiping the already soaked strands of dark hair from her eyes. "Oh my god," she hears herself say, a grin slowly growing on her face. Around her, everyone is doing the same, jumping and spreading their hands towards the sky.

"Rain! It's really raining!"

Billie looks to the sky, keeping her eyes squinted shut. Her hands cover her grin, and she laughs again. For the moment, she can care less about the chant. Her shoulders are soaked, droplets of water pouring across her clothes and sliding from the ends of her hair.

"Billie!"

"Nate!" she responds, whirling around. She can hardly see, but she finds him coming to a halt a few feet in front of her, and she laughs, "It's fucking pouring!"

He grins back, but there's something off in his eyes. His beanie is crumpled in his hand, water beading along his chin. The thunder is back, and they both take a second to look towards the sky to see the flash before Nate's grabbing her arm, pulling her towards the drop ship.

"What was happening back there?" she finally thinks to ask, wiping her face now that they have a little shelter. She can barely hear her own voice over the storm.

"Bellamy's getting everyone to take off their wristbands," Nate calls. Billie stares at him for a minute, her face scrunching up in dread. That's not good at all – that's really bad. Her eyes fly down to Nate's wrist, but the wristband is still there. He catches on and sighs, "I'm not going to for now."

"For now?" Billie demands.

He almost rolls his eyes, but instead just takes a step back, rubbing his face, "Yeah."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asks, "You can't take it off just because you want to! Did you even hear what Clarke was saying? Without them -"

"The Ark can't tell what's going on, I know," Nate says. He sounds miserable.

Billie stares at him, shaking her head slightly. He won't meet her eyes. She just sighs, looking back to the forest. A few of the kids are trying to set up containers, and Billie recognizes Wells as one of them. She never really talked to the Chancellor's son, but Clarke talked about him sometimes. And it seems like, for the moment, they're on the same side.

"They're trying to collect the water," Billie says.

"What?"

"I'm gonna help," she tells him, "Come on."

She doesn't look at him over her shoulder as she walks, from the cover of the drop ship back into the downpour. Wells sees her first, and he looks relieved, but Nate catches up before he can run over. "Billie, wait," he grumbles, "We need to talk about this."

Billie finally turns, glaring at him briefly, "Yeah, I know. We need to talk about a lot of things. But for right now, this comes first."

The rain continues until after the buckets are all filled up. Inside the drop ship, there is hardly any room, but no one is very willing to return to the storm for the night. Nate, who went inside a little while before Billie (called away by Bellamy, she noticed), meets up with her at the same ledge as earlier. They don't say much to each other as they get settled for the night.

For the rest of the night, all she can think about is the yelling and chanting. _Whatever the hell we want; whenever the hell we want._

* * *

 **Review, please! I want to know how I'm doing so far :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Some of the kids have been bringing out seats from the drop ship. Billie doesn't bother trying to sit in any. They're all fighting over them, and her perch against a tree is much less sought after.

Normally, she doesn't like to lay around. But it's her first morning on the ground, the storm has passed, everyone is enjoying themselves. So Billie just leans against the tree, digging her fingers into the dirt, and blends in.

They've spread out. There are paths between trees and stumps, some supplies piled up. A few fires have been started in pits, courtesy to Earth Skills, and most of them are surrounded by lounging kids, talking and laughing and sharpening sticks and knives. Footsteps crash back and forth, winding through trees as they learn how to run for the first time, playing some sort of game that Billie doesn't care to understand.

Nate is sitting with a handful of guys that might be his friends. Billie doesn't know them very well, so she declined Nate's invitation to sit with them. They make eye contact and nod a few times, just to check in.

Billie's relaxed. No one's noticing her; no one's recognizing her face. She hasn't had to talk to many people – most of them are caught up in their own business.

She supposes she shouldn't be too surprised when someone does seek her out, eventually.

It's a girl, and what catches Billie's attention is how young she is. Her hands are shaky and her eyes are big, and her boots shuffle against the ground from where she stands nearby. Her braids are loose, soft flyaway strands framing her set face.

"Can I sit over here?" the girl asks, her nervous hesitation obvious.

Billie sits up a little, looking up at her with a tiny smile, "Yeah, sure."

The girl almost immediately lowers herself to the ground, sitting on the edge of the path, like Billie. She wants to scoot to the side so the stranger can lean against the tree, too, but from the way the girl keeps stiffly avoiding her eyes, she waits.

"What's your name?" Billie asks after a second.

A light pair of eyes flick upwards, staring at her. The girl's lips part, and she murmurs, "Charlotte."

Billie nods, smiling again at Charlotte, "Nice to meet you. I'm Billie." The girl recognizes the introduction with a faint smile, and Billie dips her head, moving so they can both lean against the tree, "Here, there's room for one more."

Charlotte blinks a few times, and Billie diverts her gaze as she shuffles over to sit. "Thanks."

"Sure," Billie says, and they fall into silence for a while. Charlotte is stiff besides her, picking at a stick in her hands. Finally, Billie thinks to ask, "Have you eaten today, Charlotte?"

The girl looks up from her shoes, shaking her head silently. Billie's stomach churns, and she wipes her dirt-stained fingers on her cargo jeans before digging into her pocket once more. Nate's holding most of their ration packs, but she's still carrying around a few. She grabs an unopened one and passes it to Charlotte.

"Here," she says, "You can keep it."

Charlotte takes it slowly, her eyes wary but her smile sincere, "Thank you."

"You can let me know if you need anything else, okay?" Billie says, zipping her pocket again. Charlotte nods, starting to rip open the package, but a sharp yell stops her.

Billie's head immediately shoots up. The rest of the hundred are doing the same, already pushing to their feet. She doesn't have time to look for Nate. "You should stay here," she says to Charlotte, already skidding down the rocky hill. Of course, the girl disregards her, scrambling to her feet in pursuit.

She's one of the first to reach the bottom, and she stands on a fallen log, watching with dread as Murphy holds a girl in a headlock almost directly over a fire. Wrist bands litter the floor around the pit. And she might not know the girl, but she does know that nothing about this is good, so she yells in a voice as commanding as she can muster, "Hey, stop!"

Murphy looks up, his trademark look of scorn on his grimy face. He sneers at her, tightening his grip, "And who the hell are you?"

She could answer in a variety of ways. None of your business. Doesn't matter. Let her the fuck go, Murphy.

Someone else beats her to it, "That's Billie Kane!"

No one reacts positively. Billie watches as Murphy's face falls blank, a thoughtful look in his eyes. She forces herself to look away and searches the crowd, but she can't find the one who said it. People are suddenly giving her dirty looks, and she can't tell if they're closing in or backing away. She finds Nate as he joins the crowd, and it seems like he's caught on quickly, because his eyes are dark as he stares right back.

"What's happening here?" Bellamy interrupts.

Murphy manages a sneer as he struggles to hold the girl down, "Check it out. We want the Ark to think that the ground is killing us, right? Figure it'll look better if we suffer a little first."

If at all possible, Billie feels worse. Way worse.

Wells Jaha is the first one on the scene, running to throw Murphy away from the fire. The girl rolls to the side, but Billie doesn't have time to watch her scramble away. There's a gasp as Wells straightens again, moving towards Bellamy, who's now on the floor, too. Billie doesn't know or necessarily like any of them, but she doesn't have any hopes of this turning out alright.

"You can stop this," Wells breathes, and Billie knows he's right.

"Stop this?" Bellamy asks, raising his eyebrows, "I'm just getting started."

Billie clenches her fists, her feet frozen to the spot as Murphy flies in out of nowhere, landing a sturdy punch to an unsuspecting Wells' jaw. She groans in frustration, unable to hear anything other than the cries of support Murphy's receiving from the audience.

Murphy pummels Wells, but everything is happening so fast, and soon enough Wells has the upper hand, and he's smacking Murphy to the ground. The cheers turn to yells of protest and shock, and everyone backs away. Billie jumps down from the log, thinking she's going to walk into the fray and somehow stop this, but Murphy tackles Wells back and she loses all hopes of a successful interference.

They throw punches back and forth, and in the time it takes Billie to blink, the hundred's yells of encouragement are falling short, and Wells is hovering over a dazed and beat up Murphy.

For the second time, the boy turns to Bellamy, who's spectating the fight with narrowed eyes. "Don't you see you can't control this?" Wells demands, his eyes pleading.

Billie's eyes find Murphy and her throat clogs up. The boy rolls to his feet, a very long knife in his hands, a murderous look in his eye as he staggers to a stand. "You're dead," he grunts to Wells, and Billie believes him.

"Wait!" Bellamy intervenes. Billie doesn't dare to move. Her eyes dart over to Nate, but he's focusing intently on the fight, his lips pursed tightly. "Fair fight."

No one is on Wells' side. They weren't when he tackled Murphy away from the fire, and they aren't now that he's picking up the knife, circling right along with his opponent. She doesn't know what to do, how to stop this. Part of her is thankful that she isn't the main object of attention anymore, but another part of her would take scornful looks over fighting to the death.

It's when Murphy grits out, "This is for my father!" That's when everything falls into place for Billie, the girl who has avoided being noticed, who hasn't talked to anyone but Nate and Charlotte, who has spent her whole life hiding away from the fact that her dad can't always be the good guy. They're here because the hundred can't see the councilmen as good guys at all.

"Wells!"

The voice makes Billie's head snap up, and her thought process die. She doesn't have it in her to feel any hope, not until things die down. They're on the ground for the first time in a hundred years, but it seems like everything is on its way to falling apart.

But if anything's going to make her feel hopeful, it's the sight of Clarke Griffin rushing into the clearing, her feet carrying her straight to the fight. "Let him go," the blonde says, her eyes wide.

Billie is inexplicably happy to see her.

Octavia and Monty hike down the hill with staggering steps, Finn quick to follow, and at least one of Billie's fears dies. It doesn't hit her until she makes eye contact with Monty, who stares at her in shock for a moment, his mouth forming her name, before his eyebrows crease and his face falls. He looks scared.

Billie realizes Jasper's absence almost immediately afterwards.

The next thing she hears is Finn as he settles onto a tree stump across from Billie. "We didn't make it to Mount Weather."

Billie's shoulders sag, and her eyes flutter shut. She can hear her heart beat in her ears. They're on the ground, but nothing is going the way it should be, everything is wrong, and she's beginning to feel helpless, standing at the foot of an avalanche.

Bellamy demands, "Then what the hell happened out there?"

"We were attacked," Clarke says, and Billie's eyes open.

"By what?" Wells huffs.

"Not what. Who," Finn corrects, leaning back in his seat. He looks tired. "Turns out, when the last man from the ground died on the Ark, he wasn't the last grounder."

Grounder. _Grounder._ The word the boy uses dances around Billie's head, an intimidating and terrifying routine that doesn't let her focus on anything else. Her entire brain is scattered, her heart beating unevenly. Grounder. The avalanche is starting.

"It's true," Clarke confirms, turning to the rest of the crowd. Billie latches on to her gaze, and the blonde purses her lips, "Everything we thought we knew about the ground is wrong. There are people here – survivors."

Everyone is talking, the joy of the new day having died quickly. Feet shuffle. "The good news is," Clarke starts, "That means we can survive. Radiation won't kill us."

"The bad news is the grounders will," Finn finishes.

There's a long moment of silence. Gasps, groans, sighs. Billie is still. "Where's the kid with the goggles?" Wells suddenly asks.

She looks to Monty. Her friend looks like he's been kicked, his eyes on the floor. Clarke answers again, "Jasper was hit. They took him." Billie runs her hands through her hair, a lasting exhale hissing between her teeth. Her eyes burn.

She doesn't have time to mourn. Everything is happening too fast.

"Where is your wristband?" Clarke hisses, rounding on Wells. The boy just locks his jaw, looking to Bellamy with an angry calm.

"Ask him."

Billie swears that Bellamy and Clarke glare at each other for longer than a minute, until Clarke asks in a low voice, "How many?"

"Twenty four and counting," Murphy replies, his sneer back on his face. Blood is sticking to his matted hair, and he looks at Clarke, a sick pride in his eyes.

As if the amount of broken wristbands wasn't enough, things get worse.

"You idiots," Clarke breathes. Billie only needs to see the look in her eyes to know how serious things have just become. "Life support on the Ark is _failing._ That's why they brought us down here! They need to know the ground is survivable again, and we need their help against whoever is out there."

Billie goes still.

"If you take off your wrist bands," Clarke plows on, her voice rising with every desperate syllable, "You're not just killing them! You're killing us."

Life support is failing. The Ark is dying. The council was so desperate the only option was for them to send a horde of criminals with death sentences to the ground. Reduce population. Billie knows how it works.

She collapses onto the log, biting into her wrist and blinking rapidly. She might throw up.

"We're stronger than you'd think," Bellamy is back. Billie doesn't want to hear it. _Marcus is up there, thinking they're all dying._ "Don't listen to her, she's one of the privileged. If they come down, she'll have it good! How many of you can say the same?"

Billie can hear the shift, the murmurs spreading. They approve, they listen to Bellamy. Do they even care at all? Are they thinking?

"We can take care of ourselves!" he proclaims, his voice gravely, "That wrist band on your arm? It makes you a prisoner. We are _not_ prisoners anymore. They say they'll forgive your crimes, I say you're _not_ criminals! You're fighters. Survivors. The grounders should worry about us!"

There it is again. Grounders.

The cheers are deafening this time. Fists pump into the air and faces morph into war cries. Billie sits miserably on her log, wishing she could disappear.

* * *

Billie needs to get out of this camp. There's another reason she's volunteering to go with Clarke, though.

"Are you sure about this?" Clarke asks.

"Yeah," Billie replies, hacking off the seat belt she was working on and tossing it into the pile. She puts her own knife down for a second, wringing her hands and investigating the soon-to-be blisters on them. "Jasper's my friend. I have to help, you know?"

Billie might be having a bad day (she's had her fair share of those), but after the scene Bellamy made, it became pretty clear that there were more important things to do than mope around. Jasper was out there, somewhere, and if they wanted to bring him back, they had to act fast. Not to mention that some of the kids were leering at her, now that they knew who she was, and frankly, it would have been impossible for her to sit around and take it much longer. So she chased after Monty and Clarke, practically tackling each of her friends in a hug when she found them in the drop ship.

She's been working with Clarke for the past half hour, sorting through the wreckage the landing left. Conversation is kept to a minimum, not because they have a shortage of things to talk about, but because of the time limit. Billie tries to convince herself that later, Clarke can tell her more about life support on the Ark, and what happened to her a year ago that got her sent to the ground in the first place. To be fair, she hasn't seen Clarke for a year, and neither of them are as carefree as they used to be.

"Good," Clarke says, "We can definitely use it."

"There you are," Wells interrupts, climbing onto the floor, "When my father said they didn't leave us anything, he meant it."

Clarke turns to him almost impatiently, and Billie decides to sit out of this one. The two former friends look at each other, Clarke's eyebrows raised at the slice on Wells' arm. "Just a scratch," the boy assures her.

"You're making friends fast," Clarke notes.

Billie snorts, shaking her head. Wells acknowledges her with a sideways glance. "Keep it covered. It could get infected," Clarke adds with a sigh, turning back to her pile of supplies before lifting her head, "Nice pack…"

"Yeah," Wells almost perks up, "Seat belts and, uh, insulation. I also packed part of the parachute thinking we could use it to carry out Jasper."

"Good," Clarke quiets him quickly, "Give it to Billie. You're not coming with us."

Billie straightens at her mention, looking between Wells and Clarke curiously. Once again, Wells looks to her, this time looking less than pleased as he formulates his response, "My ankle's fine."

"It's not your ankle, Wells," Clarke says drily, pushing past him to get to the ladder. Billie shoulders her backpack and follows quickly, leaving Wells to climb down last. "It's you."

Billie's boots hit the floor, and she busies herself with tucking in her shirt to the waistband of her pants, sliding her knife there for safekeeping. "We came back for reinforcements, I'm gonna help," Wells insists, jumping to the floor.

"Clarke," Monty says, "He's right, we need him. So far, no one else has volunteered."

Billie's heart falls, and she smiles sadly at her friend. Monty's eyes are still wet, but he just nods back to her. They both turn back to the blonde. "I'm sorry, Monty, but you're not going either," Clarke sighs.

"Like hell I'm not," Monty snaps, stepping forward. Clarke just straightens her shoulders, but Billie cuts them both off.

"Clarke, Jasper's his best friend," she argues, "If anyone has a good reason to go, it's Monty."

Clarke's eyes slide over to her, and she says to Monty, "You're too important. You were raised on farm station and recruited by engineering."

"So?" Monty says, voicing Billie's exact thoughts. They exchange another glance, both of their frowns prominent. Billie puts her hands on her hips.

"So, food and communication. What's up _here,_ " Clarke steps forward, lifting a finger to point meaningfully at Monty's head, "is gonna save us all. You figure out how to talk to the Ark, and I'll bring Jasper back."

She's gone before anyone can say anything more, and Billie moves so she's standing side to side with Monty. "Clarke's right," he says quietly.

"I guess," Billie grumbles. She elbows him lightly, "But Jasper will be fine. Just… worry about this, for now. We'll be back before you know it."

"Hey," they hear Clarke say, "You ready?"

Billie watches Finn shake his head, his eyes disbelieving, "I'm not going anywhere. And neither should any of you. That spear was thrown with pinpoint accuracy from three hundred feet -"

"So what," Monty speaks up, "We let Jasper die?"

"That's not going to happen," Clarke says quickly.

Billie crosses her arms at Finn, "You're the one who dragged him out there yesterday."

Clarke gives her a glance over her shoulder, before turning to Finn and saying quietly, "Spacewalker? What a joke. You think you're such an adventurer, but you're really just a coward."

"It's not an adventure, Clarke!" Finn protests, "It's a suicide mission."

Clarke just shakes her head, pushing her way around him and out the door. Billie grits out a sigh, turning to Monty, "Don't listen to him."

Predictably, Monty ignores her. He lifts his chin towards Finn, biting out, "Jasper looked up to you."

Wells approaches the long-haired boy afterwards, but Billie doesn't care to watch. Monty storms away, and she darts after him, hovering over him as he collapses on the floor by what used to be the communications deck. She sighs, "I'm serious, Monty. It'll be fine."

Monty does a poor job at acting like he agrees. He nods sheepishly, looking up at her but barely meeting her eyes, "Thanks, Billie. Be safe out there."

She smiles slightly, putting her hand on his shoulder and squeezing before turning and walking away. She shoves open the fabric blockading the entrance and stands on the ramp. It seems that the more time she spends in the drop ship, the brighter it gets outside.

"You're going, aren't you?" Nate asks, his strides long as he walks towards her.

Billie's shoulders sag, and she leaps down. They slowly move to the edge of camp. "I have to, Nate, it's Jasper. And I don't think I can stay put here for much longer."

Nate wipes his hand across his cheek and shakes his head, "You're being stupid."

"I'm doing what's right," Billie says as bravely as she can, but Nate sees through her. "Look, if the Ark's really dying then we all need to do our best to survive. There's only one hundred of us; we should be looking out for each other. If I don't go, nobody's gonna take my place. And I'm not ready to give up on him."

"Clarke's bringing Bellamy," he says eventually.

"She is?" Billie frowns incredulously. "Why the hell would she do that?"

"Gun," Nate explains simply, and he looks at her closely, "Bellamy's bringing Murphy." Her face falls, and she bites her lip, forcing her shoulders into a shrug. Nate frowns, adding, "They'll want your wristband. And they won't stop at no."

"If those dumbasses want wristbands so badly, why are you still wearing yours?" Billie challenges.

Nate pauses, "I just… need to think about it. But that's not the point. I'm saying, they don't like people like you. They're both dangerous; I wouldn't put it past them to -"

"Nate, stop," Billie tries, but it doesn't work.

"I'm trying to keep you alive here!" Nate hisses, "Look, if you have to go, I think you're being an idiot, but I can't change your mind. Just stay the hell away from Bellamy and Murphy. They want to see you dead to the Ark, and Murphy won't have a single problem with killing you to do it."

Billie processes his words, her face twisted into a frown. She doesn't have a response, so she just mutters, "This sucks. We've been on the ground for less than two days and everything's going to shit."

Nate sighs in response, "You could just give up your wristband."

Billie's head shoots up, and she snaps, "No. I'm not doing that to my dad, and you shouldn't do it to yours."

"Yeah. Well." Besides her, Nate shakes his head. There's silence for a moment, until her best friend turns to her, his eyebrows weaving together, "Then make sure you stay away from them. You got a knife?"

"Yeah, Clarke gave me one," Billie tells him.

"Good," Nate nods, "Be careful, okay?"

"Yeah. Good luck holding up the fort," she smiles, trying not to look at him for a moment too long. This isn't going to be the last time she sees him.

They'll all be just fine.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think about how everything's going :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Looking back on it, this chapter is super short, but we're finally getting to some more action! Thanks again to everyone who's stuck with this so far!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

"Hey, hold up!"

Billie almost groans. Bellamy's easily walking parallel to them, and she isn't overjoyed to see his gun in his hands. Murphy follows dutifully, his eyes flicking between Clarke and Billie, and Wells behind them.

"What's the rush?" Bellamy continues, "You don't survive a spear through the heart."

"Put the gun away," Billie complains.

Murphy is in front of her in an instant, looking down at her with a snarl, "Well, why don't you do something about it, Kane?"

She exhales as evenly as she can, lifting her chin back to glare up at him. Her hand finds her hip, as close to where her knife is stowed away as she can get without being obvious. She doesn't want Murphy this close to her, and the stupid gun isn't helping.

"Jasper screamed when they moved him. If the spear struck his heart, he'd have died instantly," Clarke tells them. She eyes Murphy, then looks back to Bellamy calmly, "Doesn't mean we have time to waste."

Bellamy snatches Clarke's arm before she has the chance to turn away, smirking viciously, "As soon as the two of you take your wristbands off, we can go."

Murphy takes a step closer to Billie, if that's even possible, and she instinctively moves back. Her hand grips the handle of her knife, and she wills her heartbeat to stop being so damn loud. She gives Murphy her best sneer, but he just looks amused.

Once again, Clarke saves her.

"The only way the Ark's gonna think I'm dead, is if I'm dead," Clarke says firmly, leaning towards Bellamy with narrowed eyes. Billie's never seen this side of her friend before, but she's sure as hell glad it exists. "Same goes for Billie. Got it?"

The thought to put distance between her and Murphy barely has a chance to cross her mind before she's roughly shoving him back. Murphy hardly stumbles, but it gives her some space, leaving them to glare at each other with hostility. She tries not to think about Nate's warning.

Bellamy seems to only grow taller, his smile locking in place as he looks between them. "Brave princess," he says to Clarke.

"Well, why don't you find your own nickname?" Finn is there before anyone can further retaliate, sauntering into the clearing. He looks between the facing off groups, raising his eyebrows, "You call this a rescue party? You've gotta split up, cover more ground."

Even if Billie isn't overjoyed to see him, she's happy that his interruption cut off the tension. Murphy takes another step back on his own, his hands finding his pockets, and Bellamy just watches Finn closely. Neither of them try anything when Finn says, "Come on," and Clarke breaks away from the group, following the newcomer.

Billie's gaze lingers on Murphy and Bellamy for a second as she tries to determine whether the coast is clear or not. She then glances to Wells, who stares at the ground dismally, and tightens her grip on her knife before turning and marching after Clarke and Finn.

Billie isn't sure how much time passes, but she makes sure to keep her distance from Bellamy and Murphy. Wells, for some reason she isn't sure she cares to know, is down on the ravine below them, walking just a few short paces behind Bellamy. Billie, herself, gives Finn and Clarke some privacy, walking a little to their right. She hasn't dropped her knife just yet, but her grip has eased considerably. The forest seems empty.

"Hey, why are we stopping?" she calls.

The pair turns around, Clarke with dread in her eyes. "We think the river where Jasper got hit was a boundary. Which means we won't be able to get to Mount Weather."

"Shit," Billie mutters in response.

Clarke nods slightly, and Billie isn't sure why, but they both turn to Finn, expecting him to chime in. Instead, his eyes are distant, his head tilted. And then he's pushing away, hiking quickly up the shallow hill.

A stream runs in front of them, bridges made of rocks and pebbles making paths to the other side. It doesn't look too deep, and the water is clear, the ripples from the rocky waterfall distorting the reflection. "Wow," Clarke remarks simply.

"You can say that again," Billie says slowly, blinking up to the top of the cliff. Thriving vines climb the walls and white water splashes against the rocks.

"Well at least we don't have to worry about water," Clarke continues, and Billie grins.

Finn is the first to step into the water, his boots skimming the surface as he balances on the rocks. Billie hurriedly follows, completely silenced as the water seeps into her boots. She stumbles a few times as the three of them climb across to where it's deeper, but at the moment, nothing matters. The Ark isn't dying, Jasper is okay, nobody wants to kill her.

This time, she's the first one in. Her bag is on the rocks in an instant, and she's lowering herself into the deeper pool, first up to her knees, then her hips. Billie laughs loudly as the cold sensation spreads through her legs, and cups water in her hands to splash in her face, "Oh my god!"

Clarke is working to pull the lid off of her canteen, but she shares a smile with Billie. There's a loud splash as Finn climbs in, his first step being to wash his face, splashing water into his hair and onto his shoulders. Billie kneels so her shoulders are under, the tips of her hair barely getting wet. This feels entirely too surreal.

When she looks up again, it's to Clarke's irritated face as she freezes, now soaked, and looks over to Finn with a no-nonsense look in her eyes. "C'mon, Finn. We don't have time for this."

Billie grins at Finn, understanding quickly, and hides her laugh. Finn just smiles widely at her before turning back to the blonde, saying easily, "Clarke. We've been hiking for hours, we need to take a break."

"I'll take a break when we find Jasper," Clarke replies, "Come on."

Finn glances back to Billie, his eyebrows raised high, and she grins back. She can forgive him for being a dick to Monty, just this once, especially if it means dragging Clarke into the fun. "Get down here, Clarke," she calls, running a soaking hand through her hair. "You're not missing out on this."

The blonde doesn't have time to respond. She trips forward quickly, Finn having snatched her arms, and Billie barks out a laugh. Clarke's eyes widen, and she squeaks, "No. No! Finn -"

Clarke's splash is even louder than Finn's as she clumsily sinks into the water, a shocked look on her face. Billie stares at her in anticipation, waiting for some sort of reaction, but it doesn't come until Finn resurfaces, spitting water from his mouth. Clarke splashes him violently, exclaiming sharply, "Damn it, Finn!"

Billie grins as she dunks her head under. She's never been completely submerged in water before, but she knows enough to hold her breath. Her boots float away from the bottom, and there's a steady pressure closing in, but it's comforting. Everything's silent down here.

When she comes up for air, swiping her now smoothly soaked hair down her neck, the other two are talking slowly, Finn's smile having faded. Billie decides that she doesn't need to invade, and instead wades over to where Clarke dropped the canteen, pouring out the warm water inside and scooping up the fresh stream water. She does the same with her own.

"Billie," Clarke suddenly calls.

She looks up, but only sees Clarke making her way across the stream slowly, a concerned Finn on her heels. Billie tries to follow their gaze, trying not to panic, and shoulders her bag, using the rocks to cross this time. "What?"

Water pours from her clothes as she steps onto the rocky soil, but Billie hardly bothers to try and dry herself off. Clarke has led them over to a mound of white rocks, the rough surface only marred by blood. A lot of it. Billie finds the hand print immediately, but she can't look at it for too long. Beneath it, she realizes, is a pair of –

Oh. She reaches down quickly, wrenching the goggles out of the crevice, and straightens gradually. "Jasper," she says, her gaze locked to her friend's headgear.

"He was here," Clarke murmurs, looking around. "We should get the others."

Billie's hand holding his goggles falls to her side, and she bites her lip, trying not to feel nauseaus. Finn kneels next to one of the rocks, his hand swiping across the surface. Before she realizes what he's doing, he pulls it back up, a deep red covering his fingers. "We're close," he says after a minute.

She shuts her eyes and tries to breathe evenly.

* * *

They've been walking all day. It's not that Billie doesn't think it's worth it, and she's learned to trust Finn's skills. She's just tired of it all. Tired of having to look over her shoulder every few seconds to check that Bellamy and Murphy aren't misbehaving, tired of straining her eyes to look for traces of blood.

And she'd be lying if she says she's not losing hope, footstep after footstep.

Heavy, lazy footsteps fall into line near hers, and Billie's mouth dries. She knows it's Murphy even before he speaks up, saying drily, "You wanna know something, Kane?"

Billie keeps her eyes on the ground in front of her as she steps over a giant rock, shaking her head minutely as the only response. Murphy doesn't waste time in continuing, drawling, "Your dad arrested me. Told me he'd make sure I'd never see anything but a cell for the rest of my life."

She keeps her eyes on the path in front of her, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Guess what," he says lowly. "Here we are."

Billie waits a beat, and then turns to him. Keeping her voice light, she says, "Wanna know something, Murphy? I don't care."

"Do you want to keep it down, or should I paint a target on your back?" Finn asks, hardly pausing in his walk.

Murphy only gives a disdainful scoff. Billie rolls her eyes, letting her feet carry her away from him and back towards Clarke. The blonde gives her a tight smile, which she returns, and then it's back to walking quietly, giving Finn as much space as he needs.

This time, it's a bush. The boy taps one of the branches with a frown, and Billie raises her eyebrows in waiting. Behind her, Murphy groans under his breath.

There are splatters of blood on the ground. Finn kneels next to them, and Clarke catches on, hunching over. Billie just sighs, trying not to think of all the times Jasper once made her laugh when it felt like there was nothing to smile about. She wants him to come back, but all they can find is a blood trail that doesn't guarantee what they'll find at the end. Don't be dead, Jordan, she prays.

"See?" Bellamy mutters, and Billie glances back to see him breathing in Wells' ear. He raises his eyes meaningfully, "You're invisible."

Wells looks to Bellamy angrily, but he doesn't argue. Just shakes his head. Billie frowns, about to intercede with, "What's that supposed to mean?"

But a sound cuts them off. And Billie's been experiencing a lot of new things the past two days, but none of them quite compare to this. The moan is low and loud, distinctly human, terrifying as it echoes through the forest. Chills climb over Billie's skin as it finally slows to a gravelly stop, silencing even the birds.

"What the hell was that?" Murphy demands.

None of them are willing to imagine. Clarke is the one to finally answer, "Now would be a good time to take out that gun."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you for your continued support! :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Billie doesn't like to think about it.

Not about the way Jasper looked, strung hardly conscious from that brambly tree with bloody shapes carved onto his stomach. Not about the way Clarke ran forward, tumbling into that trap, how for a split second, Billie was certain that Bellamy would let her fall. Not about the way the giant panther slunk into the clearing, hiding behind the bushes, leaving them all stranded and paralyzed. Five bullets.

The ground, she's finding out, is a daunting place.

Most of all, Billie isn't thinking about it because there are more pressing matters at hand.

She's done all the talking she can. No one in the long line of wristband-clad, hungry juveniles are willing to listen. The ones that don't turn their noses up at her just blandly refuse. They aren't backing down.

"What's the big issue here?"

Billie turns quickly at Murphy's voice, her lip curling upward. She's too frustrated for the expression to last. "Get the fuck away from me," she says to Bellamy. Her eyes wander to Murphy and the other guy, Mbege, before she looks back to their fearless leader, her voice wavering a little as she spits, "You're gonna kill us all."

"Well, I'm sorry you disagree with us," Bellamy says with his eyebrows raised, "But it doesn't change how this is going to end. We need your wristband, Kane."

"And you're not gonna get it," Billie growls.

"We are if you want to eat," Mbege tells her confidently.

She sneers, feeling distinctly cornered but too upset to show it. "I wouldn't count on it."

"Billie," Bellamy starts off normally, but she can hear the threat coming from miles away, "The choice here shouldn't be too hard. What do you owe to them?"

She just narrows her eyes, waiting for him to elaborate. Murphy and Mbege are practically bristling behind him, itching for a fight.

"I heard you got framed for something serious," Bellamy says, his eyes narrowed a bit, "The people up there, they made you an outcast. They made you expendable. You can keep trying to convince yourself that your father doesn't have anything to do with it, or you can make the right choice."

A muscle in Billie's jaw twitches, and her glare hardens. There's a sour taste in her mouth.

"You don't want to take it off now, fine," he says after a second. Eyeing her set jaw, he tilts his head, "But I think you'll come around."

It's a clear threat. She isn't really sure why the camp around them is proceeding as normal, campfire-lit faces glancing over in interest but none of them trying to intervene as their leader blatantly threatens her. She can hear deactivated wristbands dropping into the pile and grunts as they're wrenched off.

No one moves. Billie takes a breath, knowing that there's no solution. But the wristband isn't coming off.

She just shakes her head, smiling sourly, and when her feet start to carry her away from them, she's already ready. A hand grips her upper arm roughly, and at the moment, she doesn't care which one of them it is.

Murphy doesn't jump back in time to dodge the solid punch she lands to his jaw. Pain flares in her knuckles as soon as they make contact with his face, and she's not sure if it's because his head is thicker than she originally thought, or if maybe she just hates him that much.

Her other hand is reaching forward to grab a handful of his collar, drawing him forward so she can knee him, hard, in the groin. Before either of them are really aware what's happening, Billie's tightened her grip, her other hand reaching back to grab her knife. She holds it in front of her, almost too close to where she's holding his neck. Murphy has a pained grimace on his lips and a dangerous look in his eye.

Her gaze flies to where Bellamy stands, his eyebrows raised in annoyed surprise but his poise relaxed. She hardly gets a glimpse of Mbege, but he looks ruthless.

Billie doesn't doubt that Murphy's stronger than her. She's taken self defense classes, sure; she is Marcus Kane's daughter, after all. And she might have the upper hand here, as she brandishes her knife at his throat, but she's still nervous.

"Stay away from me," she manages to say, but she doesn't have time to think about whether or not her voice shook, or how the hell she's going to get out of this.

"Billie, hey!" Nate is stepping in suddenly, rushing to stand next to them with a wary look in his eyes. He puts his hands up, looking between everyone, before lightly kicking Billie's shins. Hesitantly, she loosens her grip on Murphy's shirt, but doesn't drop her knife. Nate speaks to Bellamy, "Just… Look, I've got this one, yeah?"

Nate swallows as he looks to Bellamy, but the man just shakes his head, taking a step back. "Get it done, Miller," is all he says, pushing past Mbege to get back to the fire.

Her friend waits until Murphy and Mbege finally follow to sag his shoulders, rubbing at his eyes furiously, "Damn it, Billie."

"Wait, excuse me?" she demands, letting him grab her wrist and pull her aside. She laughs derisively, wrenching her arm away and snapping, "You know what, never mind. You're right! I'm sorry, I should have let your friends force off my wrist band. In fact, I should've just gotten in line with everyone else!"

Nate stares her into silence. She's breathing heavily, not just because she's angry, but because she's scared. Finally, he shakes his head, "Don't blame this on me, okay? You good?"

"Yeah, Miller," she spits, mirroring the name Bellamy used, "I'm just fine."

She doesn't realize she's waving her knife around until he stops her forcefully, wrapping his hands around her wrist and easing it back to her side. She takes a deep breath, slipping the metal into the waistband of her jeans. She looks around miserably until she decides she can't take the sight of the scene any longer. Besides her, Nate is staring at the ground. She frowns with a huff, her eyes habitually flicking down to the place on his arm where his wristband should be. She looks back to his face, starting to say something to him, but before she can get to it, her entire body clamps up.

"You took your wristband off?" Billie all but screams, snatching up his arm with tight fingers. Nate lets out another groan, but she doesn't wait, "Who the hell do you think you are! What are you _thinking_?"

"God. Billie, shut the fuck up and let me explain," Nate growls, wrenching his hand away. They're facing off now, practically butting heads.

"Yeah, why don't you," Billie yells, shoving him back.

Nate allows her to push him, but he doesn't look fazed, "Use your head, Billie. We're out of rations, and like it or not, we need Bellamy! None of us will survive if -"

"None of us are _going to_ survive now that everyone's taking them off!" she exclaims, "Not you, not me, not our fucking parents all the way up there on the Ark. Shit, Nate, how could you _do this?_ "

He looks at her, his eyes livid, "It needed to come off."

"Like hell it did," Billie hisses, hot tears in her eyes, "Was it worth it? Did you enjoy your hot meal? Huh? You're dead to them, Nate! They're all the way up there, _grieving_ for you -"

"Billie, shut up," Nate's head is in his hands. She only talks louder.

"Do you even care? Your dad lost you once, how do you think he's gonna handle losing you again?" she demands, shoving his chest roughly, "And you're down here, you've got it good! It's whatever the hell you want, right? I can't believe you."

He stops her forcefully, "Just because your dad's still looking out for you doesn't mean mine is."

She frowns incredulously, throwing up her hands. Bitterly, she snaps, "Oh, really, uh-huh? Are you even listening to yourself?"

"You don't know everything, Billie! Stop acting like you're better than -"

"Stop acting like an asshole and maybe I will!"

"Fine," Nate says, taking a step back.

" _Fine,_ " Billie hisses, taking a step closer to him. It doesn't have the result she's counting on, and Nate just shakes his head, looking severely pissed. But he doesn't say anything more, and before Billie can bite anything else out, he's decisively turning on his heel and walking away.

"Hey!" she yells, "We're not done!"

Nate turns slightly, his strides slowing but not stopping. He shrugs his shoulders, calling so she can hear, "You're welcome for trying to help, but now I'm changing my mind. Try not to get killed."

He turns around without another glance, leaving her breathing heavily by the wall. She wets her lips and hollers, her voice raw, "Fuck you, Nate!"

Nate doesn't respond. She watches him for a second as he rejoins his apparent friends by the fire. It's almost over. There can't be many wristbands left, at this point. She imagines alarms going off in Go-Sci, can see monitors flashing and tablets being swiped through desperately. She can see eyes filled with dread.

Billie's resolve has been cracking for a few minutes now, but it practically dissolves as soon as the back of Nate's head disappears in the crowd. This is wrong, he's wrong. They're all wrong. She thinks there are tears spilling through her eyes, and when she tries to wipe them away with her sleeves, she realizes that her breath is caught. Her hand plants itself on top of her mouth and her eyes find the sky, looking through the smoke to the stars.

An uneasy voice speaks up from a short distance away, "You're not gonna cry, right?"

Billie swallows thickly, her hands falling to her sides in fists as she turns to whoever's interrupted her. It's a boy with a completely unfamiliar face, his eyes wide as he blinks at her worriedly. "Who the hell are you?" she croaks.

"Um," he blinks, wincing, "Sterling, I wasn't standing here the whole time, actually -"

"No, I'm not gonna cry," Billie snaps.

"Okay," Sterling almost looks relieved, but his eyes are still wide, and he glances back to the wall, "Well, I was gonna say I'm on watch, so it's not that I want to be standing here right now, I just have to be."

"Yeah," she fights the urge to roll her eyes, and shakes her head, "Get back on the job, then."

Even after Sterling hastily turns around, Billie stands there for a second. She doesn't know where to go, who to go to. She doesn't see Clarke's telltale blonde hair, and she doesn't want to bother Monty in the drop ship, Jasper is passed out, Billie is _starving…_

A tiny figure sits alone against the side of the drop ship, and before Billie can think better of it, she's walking. She stops with a few feet to spare, smiling the best she can and asking, "Hey, Charlotte. Mind if I sit with you?"

The little girl looks up with wide eyes. There's a practically untouched chunk of panther meat on a stake in her hands, and she's obviously looking past it while she stares at it, twisting it back and forth absently. She only pauses for a second before saying, "Nope."

Billie sighs, leaning against the drop ship for a second before dropping to the ground to sit besides the girl. She doesn't doubt that Bellamy will come back for her and her wristband, but for now, she likes to think that she deserves a break. So she glances over to Charlotte and asks, "So, did you have a good day? Or at least an okay day?"

Charlotte only looks slightly surprised, twisting the stake once more before looking to Billie and shrugging, "Yeah, I guess. Everyone's talking about the grounders."

"Ah," Billie winces, and they sit in silence for a while. She doesn't know how to comfort the little girl whose fears mirror her own. There's only a small handful of people she trusts on the ground (or at all), and none of them are doing much to ease her doubts. In fact, she's having trouble imagining a place on the ground that isn't life-threatening.

Charlotte continues to ignore the meat in front of her, which somehow doesn't seem right. Billie frowns again, leaning towards her a bit, "Hey, is everything okay with the meat?"

Charlotte purses her lips, shaking her head, "It's fine. I just don't like it." She pauses, and then, "Where's yours?"

Billie shakes her head, smiling drily at the ground, and then she holds up her wristband for Charlotte to see. The girl's eyes widen in acknowledgement as Billie says, "I'm not getting any panther meat anytime soon."

"Oh," Charlotte says quietly, and there's a long pause, "I know I shouldn't have taken it off, I just…"

"You don't have to apologize, Charlotte," Billie tells her. It's easy to be kind to the kid.

"I'm so hungry," Charlotte continues earnestly. There are bags under her eyes, and Billie glances over to the poor girl with a frown as she adds, "And I didn't have anything to lose when I took it off. No one on the Ark still cares about me."

"Hey, don't say that," she starts.

"It's true," Charlotte insists, "My parents got floated. It's just me."

Billie doesn't have anything to say for a minute. She wonders how old Charlotte is. She wonders what her parents got floated for, what Charlotte was doing in the Sky Box. All questions that she won't ask tonight. Instead, she says, "I'm sorry, Charlotte."

"It's okay," the girl shrugs, and after a second, says, "I bet you have people up there. Right?"

Billie adjusts her position, curling her knees up so she can hug them. With a slow nod, she tells her, "Yeah. My dad. But everyone else is down here."

Are they? She can't bear to think about Nate. Clarke isn't the same. Jasper is barely alive and Monty is more closed off than ever. No one else trusts her, much less cares about her. They resent her. Who does she have to watch her back? Where are her friends to fall back on?

"You're lucky," Charlotte says, a hint of dejected jealousy in her voice. Billie doesn't feel lucky, she feels horribly alone. Maybe her and Charlotte can stick together. Maybe if she manages to comfort the younger girl, she'll feel better, too.

"Hey," she says firmly, facing Charlotte with raises eyebrows, "You're lucky, too. You made it out of lockup, and now we're living on the ground. I mean, remember how it wasn't supposed to be possible?" Charlotte nods, and Billie nudges her shoulder, continuing, "Well, we're making it work. And now you have all of us. We're all gonna look after each other, Charlotte, I promise."

They sit in silence for a little while. Billie's mind wanders, back to the tree with Jasper that she keeps telling herself she won't think about, back to Nate's bare wrist. There's a chance that everything will be okay, but there's also a chance that, well, it won't be.

"You should have this," Charlotte finally says, "It's cold, but I don't like it anyway, so…"

Billie looks over to the stick the girl is extending to her, and she smiles sadly, sighing, "Thanks, Charlotte, but no. You need it, I'm sure you've eaten less than I have."

"We'll share," the girl negotiates.

Billie knows she can refuse, knows she _should,_ but she's hungry. And Charlotte doesn't want it. Maybe it's easy to be nice to the girl, but it's also easy to take a good offer.

"That's really nice of you," Billie smiles, accepting the stick, "Thank you."

"Now we're even," Charlotte says, a ghost of a smile on her tired face. Billie snorts, nodding as she eyes the chunk of meat before her. It is cold, but it's also charred and juicy and gets stuck in her teeth as she chews thickly. Nonetheless, it tastes like the ground, and Billie passes it back to Charlotte with an undisguised grin.

* * *

 **In case you were confused, Miller took off his wristband because of the whole situation with his dad. Obviously, they care about each other, but I think somewhere along the line (after he was arrested) there was some sort of miscommunication, hence Miller telling Monty that David "sure loved having a thief for a son." Billie and Nate haven't exactly had a ton of time to catch up, so she doesn't know that the two of them had a falling out, which is why it's much harder for her to understand.**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Follow/favorite/review, if you want :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

If nothing else, at least the wall is getting built.

Three days have passed since the trip to find Jasper. Camp is beginning to look less and less like a crash site and more like an actual settlement. They've set up tents, they've built mounds for guards so they can see into the woods from higher grounds. The seats from the drop ship are all scattered around the fire pits, distinct paths winding through whatever debris hasn't been cleared out. And maybe Billie detests Bellamy and everything he stands for, but for the moment, things are quiet, and for the most part, he isn't doing half bad.

In a sick way, Billie thinks its Jasper's screams that have been motivating them.

A mixture of sweat and water slides down her face as Billie wipes some of the grime away, dipping her hands into the basin again and splashing her face. She hunches over for a minute, her head lowered as she lets her eyes hang shut. Her body is drained completely. Nobody's eaten a substantial meal all day.

Shoulders dig her to the side before Billie can see them coming, and she stumbles back to a full stand, regaining her footing. She turns with a hard glare to the boy that shoved her, some idiot named Dax, but he just looks at her evenly, a triumphant sneer on his lips, "My bad, Kane. Maybe you shouldn't stand in the way next time."

"Shut up, Dax," Billie mutters, not interested in taking the asshole's bait. Wiping her hands on her pants, she shoves past him, stalking back to the portion of the wall she's been assigned to.

Her raw hands are stained with dirt, they have been for days. Billie packs the soil into the base of the wall, fitting it around scrap metal and logs alike as securely as she can.

"Billie, over here," Clarke's voice calls.

The brunette takes the distraction gratefully, turning away from the wall to meet her friend halfway. "Hey, do you need something?" she asks, trying not to feel too hopeful.

Clarke nods, eyeing Billie's progress on the wall. "Listen, I'm taking Wells and Finn back to that stream we found. You know how the grounders covered Jasper's wound with that material?" she asks, raising her eyebrows, "It's seaweed. If we want Jasper's conditions to improve, we're going to need some more."

"Yeah, definitely," Billie agrees, leaning back to swipe her jacket off the ground. She folds it across her arms, frowning, "What can I do?"

"Right now, it's just Octavia and Monty up there with Jasper. We shouldn't be gone for long, but we need to make sure nobody tries anything," she says, "Just… Would you stay up there and keep an eye on them?"

"Yeah, I got it," Billie nods, glancing back to her post. No one's going to care if she leaves. "Good luck out there, Clarke."

It only takes her a minute or two to reach the top floor of the drop ship, weaving through the sparse crowd on the bottom floors to get to the ladders. No one stops her, but she does get a few doubtful glares, which seem to follow her almost everywhere she goes. She's learning to ignore them.

When she finally swings the latch open, she finds Octavia sitting by Jasper's cot, dabbing his sweaty forehead with a rag. It doesn't look like Monty's making any progress.

"Hey," Billie says, tugging her jacket over her shoulders. She takes a few steps towards Jasper and murmurs, "How's he doing?"

"He'll be fine," Octavia says, and Billie doesn't need to look in her eyes to see how serious she is. Billie licks her lips and nods, glancing over to Monty.

"Yeah, I know," is all she says. "Clarke's gonna help him."

Monty sighs in response. Billie settles down on the floor, a decent distance between both the hatch and Jasper's cot. "So what are you here for?" Octavia asks after a second, hardly glancing in her direction.

"Just to stay with you guys," Billie answers after a second of deliberation. She doesn't think Octavia would respond well to Clarke's concerns. With a shrug, she adds, "Jasper's my friend, too."

The girl seems to accept this answer, sweeping a short glance in Billie's direction to nod.

"Any luck?" she turns to Monty.

"None at all," he remarks bitterly. He takes up the excuse for a break, leaning back to cross his arms, and shakes his head at the makeshift workspace in front of him. "Everything I try, it just doesn't amount to anything."

"Hey, stop," Billie says firmly, kicking out her legs, "If anyone's gonna make it work, it's you. You're our best shot at this."

"Yeah," Monty shakes his head, "It would just be nice if I knew the first thing about this."

"Ark's fault, not yours," she responds quickly. And, really, it is their fault. Maybe the drop ship mission was only a desperate step towards lessening population, but would it have hurt for them to give more preparation?

"Somehow I can't see your dad not telling you about this," Monty says cautiously, risking a glance over.

Billie just shakes her head. She's already thought about this plenty. Marcus was never timely about sharing details, and he'd practically spent the last year evading questions about work. Just because she hates the situation doesn't mean she blames him. "Yeah, well. He didn't," she responds, gazing down at her wristband.

"If you weren't in for treason like Clarke," Octavia finally speaks up, "Then what was it?"

Billie's already heard her story of arrest floating around. Criminal records were never secrets on the Ark, and somehow the news must have reached the Sky Box. She doesn't see a point in being ashamed of something she didn't do.

"I got mistaken for a murderer," she replies drily, remembering Nate's theory of a frame job. After a second, she thinks to ask, "Hey, what about you, Monty?"

Behind her, Octavia snorts, clearly already having been filled in. Billie just looks at him expectantly, while he tries to shrug it off. "Uh, we produced some illegal substances," he mutters.

"Monty Carlos Green!" she bursts, laughing in disbelief.

The boy grins bashfully down at the desk, attempting to shrug with his hands full of wires. "It was Jasper's idea first," he defends himself.

Billie rests her head against the wall behind her, letting her laughter die as she glances over to an unresponsive Jasper. Even Octavia, despite herself, has a fond smile on her face as she dabs at his forehead. Conversation is light afterwards. Billie convinces Monty to start working again, and they share stories from their year apart. Every time they near the topic of Jasper, they both scramble to shift the conversation away.

"Wait," Octavia says suddenly, and Billie and Monty stop talking slowly. The girl stands slowly, frowning at the floor. Below them, a muffled commotion is only growing louder.

"What do you think is going on?" Monty asks.

The hatch flies open quickly, and Billie straightens rigidly, her hand finding her hip where her knife is. Jumping to her feet, she demands, "Hey, what are you doing up here?"

The boy doesn't respond. Head after head pops up from the ladder, footsteps slamming against the floor as the drop ship is flooded. Billie just spins around in confusion while Octavia and Monty guard Jasper the best they can. No one even gives the boy a second glance.

A girl snaps one of the opened vents shut, her shirt pulled over her nose. Billie steps over, "What are you doing?"

"Air got toxic, everybody's skin started burning," someone else answers.

The entire drop ship rocks to the side, and Billie hears a giant click. They shut the doors. Eyes wide, she looks to Monty and Octavia, but they both look bewildered. "My brother's out there," Octavia says to them, her eyebrows creased.

So are Clarke and Finn. And Nate – she has no idea what he's working on today, where he is. How the hell does the air turn toxic on its own, and out of nowhere?

Blinking rapidly, she looks up, staring between Monty and Octavia. "He'll be fine," she says to the other girl, who just clamps her jaw and swallows thickly. They all glance down to Jasper, and Billie stows her knife back in the waistband of her jeans, finishing, "We'll all be fine."

* * *

Hours have passed, and by now, Jasper's awake. Along with everyone else who's trying to sleep through the fog.

"What are they gonna do?" Octavia mutters suddenly.

Billie looks over from her position on the floor. Jasper is writhing on his cot, his chest heaving. All Octavia can do is wipe the sweat away and grip his hand.

"Who are we talking about?" Billie asks carefully.

"My brother," the girl says, hardly looking over at her.

Billie doesn't think Octavia trusts easily. But at the moment, they're all the company available, and both of them are up here with Jasper for the same reason. They have common ground, and after hours of sitting in the dark, it seems like Octavia is ready to take the first step.

"I'm sure there's plenty of shelter in the woods," Billie sighs as soon as Jasper finishes this round of groaning. "When it's safe to come back, they will."

There's a long pause, and Octavia gets to her feet. She dumps her rag into the bucket of water and wrings it out, washing blood away from her hands before making her way back to Jasper's bedside. They make eye contact for a second, and Octavia comments, "Clarke better get here soon."

Monty is rushing up the ladder before Billie can voice her agreement. "Murphy's gonna kill Jasper!" he yells, stumbling onto the floor.

Billie's exhaustion edges away immediately, and she jolts into a stand, looking between where Monty is struggling to close the hatch and Murphy's arms, which are pulling him up. Octavia lurches forward, her boot and his face colliding with a crunch. Billie hears stumbling, and Murphy disappears, allowing Monty to slam the hatch shut. "The lock's on the other side," he breathes, and Billie's hair stands on end.

"Shit," she hisses, spinning in a circle. "Don't let him in!"

"Trying not to," Monty grits out. Billie doesn't turn around, but she can tell from Murphy's yelling and the sounds of a struggle that Octavia and Monty are physically holding the door shut. It might not last.

"Billie, there!" Octavia shouts, pointing with her boot.

She crosses the room in an instant. There's some sort of stick or lever in the wall, not that she has time to wonder what it's used for, and she digs her heels into the floor. With all of her strength, she tugs at it, but yanking a metal pipe out of a wall isn't as easy as it may seem.

"No rush," Monty calls desperately, "We're fine over here -"

The pipe comes free suddenly, and Billie straightens, heaving, "I got it!"

"Move it," Octavia says, scrambling away as Billie stumbles over to it. Monty rolls off just in time for her to shove the pipe across the hatch, locking it into place. She keeps her hands tight around it, but it only rattles as Murphy pushes against it.

"Open this goddamn hatch right now!" Murphy's screams are muddled.

Jasper moans again, his voice rising into a short shout this time. She looks over her shoulder and meets Octavia's eyes. They're all breathing heavily, and Billie winces, cursing under her breath. Monty dives over to Jasper's side, but there's nothing they can do.

They're stuck on this cramped floor with a mortally wounded friend, and the only thing keeping the murderous boy downstairs away is a makeshift lock on the door.

Billie falls away from the hatch slightly, but her hands don't leave the pipe. Below her, Murphy slams the hatch again, but it doesn't give. She hangs her head.

They're screwed.

* * *

Jasper makes it through the day without dying. That, alone, is a miracle.

After what happened with Murphy, Billie doesn't dare to leave the drop ship. She, Octavia, and Monty all take turns sleeping, and even Jasper dozes off here and there. He isn't getting any worse, but he certainly isn't improving.

And she hates that her hopes are dwindling, but she doesn't have a reason to look up. Night has fallen for a second time since Clarke left on her search for medicine, and the acid fog has been cleared up all day. So where the hell are they?

Billie isn't sure who shouts up to tell them that everyone's back. Without a word, Octavia shoots downstairs like a rocket. Monty and Billie exchange a glance, and she moves to stand over the now freely opened hatch.

Clarke's face is the next one she sees. "Oh, thank god," Billie breathes, stepping out of her way. "Are you guys okay?"

The blonde brushes her arm against Billie's as a way of greeting. Straight to business, she says, "The fog held us up. Is he having any new symptoms?"

"None," Monty supplies, anticipation in his eyes.

Clarke dumps her bag onto the ground, reaching in to draw out some sort of spindly red material. She explains that they need to make a tea, and Monty runs off to find water.

Billie helps sort through the seaweed with her friend, picking apart the plant and grabbing the loose pipe from yesterday so she can help mash it up. "What happened out there?" she asks eventually, stealing a glance over at Clarke. The blonde hasn't made more eye contact than necessary tonight.

She barely glances up from her work, "Well, the fog -"

"Clarke," Billie stops her. She doesn't doubt that she'll hear the full story from rumors flying around camp tomorrow, but she wants to talk about whatever's bothering her friend. And from the looks of it, it's serious. "Not what I meant."

Blue eyes look up pointedly, and Clarke turns back to the seaweed. "Everything's fine, Billie."

"Something's wrong," she corrects.

Clarke sighs, but doesn't stop working, "Atom got trapped in the fog. There was nothing I could have done to help him."

Billie licks her lips, unsure of how to feel. She thinks to the way the boy always followed Bellamy around, and then to Octavia. She doesn't want to ask how it happened, how long he was out there for. She never knew him, so it doesn't feel right to mourn. But she can sympathize. "That's horrible."

In response, Clarke says, "Hand me the pipe."

She does as asked, but she isn't done prying. "Is that all?"

Clarke doesn't answer for a while, but Billie doesn't concern herself with that. She works in silence, waiting patiently, and when Clarke finally speaks, it's to say, "I don't know that Wells actually got my father floated."

Billie stops. "What?"

Clarke looks up briefly, her eyes sad. By now, Billie has been all caught up with the chronicles of her friend's supposed 'treason,' Wells' betrayal, and her father's floating. Everything was firmly clicked in place, and now Clarke is scrambling the pieces again. Billie can tell her friend has been thinking about this for too long, has considered every possible option. And it's dragging her down.

The girl raises her eyebrows, shaking her head minutely and sighing, "Well, he was the only one I told. Just not the only one who knew."

Billie doesn't know what to say, but when Monty scrambles up the stairs with a fresh bucket of water, Finn and Octavia in his wake, the entire conversation is dropped. And really, she wouldn't know what to say in the first place.

Now that they have everything, Clarke can efficiently make the tea. There's no sign that she and Billie were just talking about the one thing that plagues the medic the most. She pours the liquid down Jasper's throat, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders.

What seems like hours later, Billie is leaning back and trying not to watch Octavia blink heatedly at Atom's mention. The girl says, "I guess we're gonna have to get used to people dying down here, aren't we?"

Billie sighs to herself. It's a truth they're all coming to terms with.

"But not you," Octavia says to Jasper. She leans forward and cups his face, "You hear me? You're not allowed to die."

Billie looks to Monty on her left, and all the way to Clarke on her right. As she watches Octavia's words sink in, she thinks that it should be the same for everyone in this room. She doesn't want any of them to die.

Finn tells the story of getting trapped in an automobile, pulling out a bottle that he claims is filled with whiskey. "I think we should drink to Jasper," he suggests, looking between everyone.

Billie is settled down on the floor a few paces from where Finn holds the alcohol. Clarke leaves not long after without much of an excuse, but Billie knows she's going to talk to Wells. She just hopes the truth is worth it. She smiles at Clarke as she goes, and in return, her friends tightly closed lips upturn a bit.

"Hand me that whiskey, huh?" she says to Finn, her eyebrows raised.

The boy grins, reaching forward, and she snatches the bottle from his grasp. It's only filled halfway now, but it'll do the trick. She screws the lid off and takes a swig, concealing her cringe as the sour liquid burns at her throat. "Strong stuff," she notes.

Monty is looking at her with his eyebrows raised, but he finally grins, "My turn."

Billie climbs to her feet, passing the flask to Monty as she passes him. "I need some fresh air. Be back later," she says. Octavia and Monty send her off with short good-byes. With a lingering glance towards Jasper's sleeping face, she lowers herself down the hatch.

They've moved Atom's body, and Billie is glad. She doesn't want to see the damage.

And as far as she's concerned, the fog hasn't cost them anyone else. Clarke would have told her, she thinks. But she needs to make sure.

Billie stalks around camp for a few minutes, keeping to the shadows. It doesn't seem like much has changed. She passes where Bellamy is briefing his men, and Mbege eyes her wristband. She scowls at him, and then at Murphy, who stays silent. His eyes speak louder than words, though, and his eyes say that he wants to kill her.

Nate isn't with them. She pulls away without a second glance, keeping her head up as she weaves between campfires.

Panic begins to force urgency into her walk, but before she can have a meltdown, she notices him sitting on a tree stump. He's alone, for once not hanging around Bellamy, focusing intently as he sharpens his knife. She stops walking and stands there, unsure of what to do.

Nate notices her pretty quickly, and looks up. His eyes don't betray anything as he bites out, "What do you want?"

Billie stares at him for a few seconds, but there's nothing to be said. So she shakes her head and turns away, ducking out of sight at the first opportunity.

Clarke falls into step next to her before she even comes up with a destination, and she looks over to the blonde, "Hey. You two talked?"

Her eyes are still a little puffy. She sighs, "Yeah. It was my mom all along." They walk behind the cover of some empty tents, most of the hundred relishing in the fresh air after a full day of being stuck in the drop ship. The girl morosely adds, "He let me hate him, Billie."

"Hey," Billie soothes, putting her hand on Clarke's arm, "It's over, Clarke. You're allowed to have your best friend back now."

"And what about my mom?" she asks. It must take a lot of effort to keep the bitterness out of her voice, Billie thinks.

"I don't know," Billie says truthfully. She isn't sure there could ever be a good enough reason for Abby to turn Clarke's dad in. She isn't sure that Clarke should forgive her. She just isn't sure about any of it. "I'm sorry."

Clarke nods, smiling sadly in thanks. Billie returns it hesitantly. The blonde clears up her throat, asking, "What about you?"

"What about me?" Billie raises her eyebrows.

"I just never got to ask how you're doing with everything," Clarke says carefully.

"Oh. Yeah, I don't know," she answers seriously, glancing to the dirt beneath her feet. "I'm worried, I guess."

"Aren't we all," the other girl sighs.

There isn't really a need to elaborate, but Billie hasn't had many chances to vent, so she continues, "I mean, my dad is up there dying slowly on the Ark, for all I know. And they probably don't even think the ground is survivable. If one more person takes off their goddamn wristband…"

Clarke sighs, "Trust me, I know. I saw that Miller took his off."

Billie's face falls, and she shakes her head, "We fought about it. Doesn't seem like we'll be talking anytime soon."

They stand in silence for a while. No one really bothers them. "What the hell are we gonna do," Billie eventually mutters.

Clarke's gaze slides over to hers, and she smiles gently, saying decisively, "The best we can do now is get back to Jasper. You coming?"

Billie isn't expecting Jasper to be awake when they arrive upstairs. Her gaze only sweeps over his pale, clammy face to make sure he's still there, and then she's looking to everyone else. His voice catches her completely off guard. "Was that a dream, or… did I get speared?"

Billie's chokes back a yelp, spinning to stare at the boy. Clarke takes the development in strides, laughing. "You'll have a very impressive scar to prove it."

Jasper looks over to them weakly, a smile lighting up his exhausted face. "Hey! My savior," he mumbles, and then his eyes shift to Billie. His eyebrows raise, and he squints, mumbling fondly, "And look who it is."

She just grins happily at him, shaking her head.

"Thank you," Clarke smiles warmly at him, "For not dying. I don't think I could've taken that today."

"Well. I'll try not to die tomorrow, too, if that's cool," Jasper says, and they all laugh. Billie drops onto the floor next to Monty, realizing that her eyes are wet.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.**

 **Also, Nessamir, if you see this: I definitely see your point! Billie could have never imagined any of the things they're dealing with on the ground, and so it's taking her a little while to adapt. She definitely will grow into her role with the hundred, though! I wouldn't consider her to be a real leader like Clarke or Bellamy (especially in the beginning), but she definitely has survival instincts that will start to kick in pretty soon. Anyway, thank you so much for reviewing! I'm glad you like it :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

"Be back in a second," Billie says to Monroe, letting her arms fall to her sides. The girl nods wordlessly, and Billie ducks away from the section they're working on, finding the closest pail of water. She grabs the jar dangling from the structure, just dipping it under the rainwater and lifting it to her mouth when -

Murphy comes out of nowhere, smacking the jar out of her hand aggressively. "No water until this section is up," he announces in a booming voice, turning to face everyone. Mbege appears behind his shoulder, rounding on Billie. Her heart drops to her stomach, and her lip curls in frustration.

"Hey, back the hell up," she spits at them, shoving Mbege back.

"Something to say, Kane?" Murphy challenges, stepping up again with a sneer. "What are you looking at, huh?"

Billie glares up at him, her eyes narrowed into slits, but forces her feet to stay planted. She considers shoving him again for good measure, but Clarke snatches the opportunity from right under her nose. Murphy flies backwards, stumbling as the blonde pushes him back furiously. "You son of a _bitch_!"

Billie backs up, accidentally colliding with Bellamy. Immediately, she pulls away, too confused to care.

Murphy laughs derisively, raising his eyebrows in disbelief, "What's your problem?"

"Recognize this?" Clarke demands, holding up a big knife for everyone to see. Billie's frown deepens, and she narrows her eyes at it, glancing between the two of them. Murphy's face goes slack, his eyebrows creasing slowly.

"That's my knife, where'd you find it?"

Clarke snatches it away before he can grab it, her face livid as she says, "Where you dropped it, right after you killed Wells!"

Oh. The camp seems to fall silent. Everyone has dropped their positions on the wall; they're all watching with varying levels of confusion and shock. Billie looks to Octavia, but the girl just has a steely resolve in her eyes as she glares Murphy down. Besides her, Jasper fidgets uncomfortably. What the hell is going on?

"Where I _what_?" Murphy repeats after a while. "The grounders killed Wells, not me."

Clarke steps forward, and it seems like everyone else is closing in. "I know what you did. And you're gonna pay for it," she promises.

"Really," Murphy says drily. He and Clarke glare at each other for a second before he whips around to face Bellamy. Now that the surprise has worn off, his typical sneer is back in place as he fishes for backup. "Bellamy, you really believe this crap?"

Close to where Billie stands, Bellamy squares his shoulders. No answer comes.

"You threatened to kill him," Clarke continues, "We all heard you! You hated Wells."

Murphy's eyebrows are still creased, and he looks down at her with a frown, "Plenty of people hated Wells. His father was the Chancellor who locked us up -"

It doesn't receive the support he's clearly expecting. Clarke intercedes loudly, "Yeah, but you're the only one who got in a knife fight with him!"

"I didn't kill him then, either," he grits out.

"Tried to kill Jasper, too," Octavia adds, and Billie crosses her arms. Her thoughts are racing, but she can't come up with anything concrete. It's all she can do to focus on everything that's happening, much less form a strong opinion. Too fast, it's all happening too fast. And it's only speeding up.

Murphy grins sourly, shaking his head as he turns slowly. He's faced with a surrounding sea of accusatory faces, apprehensive as they wait for the jurisdiction. Finally, he snorts, "Oh, come on, this is ridiculous. I don't have to answer to you! I don't have to answer to anyone -"

"Come again?" Bellamy frowns.

More silence. Bad move, Murphy. The boy tilts his head, intently crossing to stand near them. Billie wants to step back, but she doesn't. "Bellamy," Murphy says quietly, "Look, I'm telling you, man. I didn't do this."

"They found his fingers on the ground with your knife," Bellamy tells him.

Billie's heart skips a beat. That sounds like evidence, and Murphy has a motive. She's just waiting for the judge's ruling.

Maybe Billie didn't know Wells enough to mourn him, but she's still been affected. Maybe she's angry, because she had to hug Clarke with all of her strength to get her to stop crying. Maybe she's not surprised at all that Murphy is standing here, pleading innocent.

But a tiny part of her is hesitant. Maybe because she was in Murphy's position before, not too long ago. Maybe because they were both framed for murder with little substantial evidence, and she might not understand, but this situation hits too close to home. She's supposed to be angry at the Ark for jumping to conclusions, but how is this any different?

Billie stares as Murphy's face falls blank again, and he stares desolately at the ground. She wants him to be guilty as charged. She hates him, she wants him to be the killer, so he can be out of their lives, so Wells can rest in peace.

She purses her lips. Isn't she wrong for wanting that?

"Is this the kind of society that we want?" Clarke demands, turning to the crowd gathered. Her eyebrows crease as she implores, "You think that there should be no rules, does that mean we can kill each other without – without punishment?"

"I already told you," Murphy says angrily, "I didn't kill anyone."

Billie doesn't think she believes him. But she doesn't know, and everything is happening so fast.

"I say we float him!" someone in the crowd calls out, receiving a few praises for it. Billie's heart falls, and she tries to look away for a second. She doesn't want to be here right now. She'd much rather be building the wall, ignoring Murphy's god complex, marching through the day peacefully, _as planned._ You can't always get what you want, it seems.

"That's not what I'm saying," Clarke protests.

"Why not?" Connor asks. Earlier today, Murphy pissed on his shoulders in the middle of camp out of spite. "He deserves to float, it's justice."

More approval.

"Revenge isn't justice!" Clarke tries.

"It's justice," Connor replies firmly, turning to yell, "Float him! Float him!" Everyone joins in until the chant intensifies, fists are pumping, everyone is getting anxious. The speed picks up until almost everyone is yelling, and Billie can't hear her own thoughts anymore, she can't keep up...

Murphy tries to run, but he's tripped and is sent tumbling to the ground.

Everything turns to shit afterwards. A mob forms, kicking and yelling, punching and swarming. Billie is thrown to the side and she stands rigidly, watching as Clarke tries to break it up, begging for them to get off of him. She doesn't join in or try to stop anyone, she just trails along, shock paralyzing every muscle in her body. They manage to tie him up and gag him, and they carry him to the top of the ravine and then toss him down.

Billie walks starkly, too caught up in the movement to stand still. The current drags her along, and she keeps her mouth clamped shut, watching with wide eyes as Murphy is shoved and kicked, prodded and forced into the clearing. Blood clots his skin. Clarke won't stop screaming. She hardly even notices someone toss a rope over a branch. She doesn't even register what it means, until Murphy is yanked up, the noose fitted around his neck. They lift him into the air until he's struggling to keep his feet on the ground.

He killed Wells; he needs to be punished... _Did_ he kill Wells? Why are they –

Billie blinks rapidly, staring as Murphy's boots kick away from the box he's propped on top of, only for him to scramble to regain his footing. "You can stop this!" she hears Clarke scream, but she's too captivated with what's happening to care who she's talking to, who she's accusing.

Everyone around her is chanting wildly, "Bellamy! Bellamy!"

That's who she's accusing, Billie puts it together now. Her mouth hasn't opened to speak since Clarke accused Murphy, and it stays that way.

Bellamy steps up. He looks distressed, and then his leg kicks out. Murphy is dangling, screaming and writhing. His face is mangled so that he doesn't even look like himself. Billie hates him, she really does. But she also is starting to think that she hates this.

She doesn't even notice that Charlotte is next to her until the girl is tugging at her sleeve, "Billie, make them stop! They need to stop it!"

Billie gapes at the girl, barely able to hear her voice over the roars around her. Everyone is talking, everyone is yelling, Murphy could die within the next ten minutes. "I can't," she manages.

"Cut him down! Now!" Finn shoves past Billie, trying to make his way to where Murphy is hanging. She doesn't mind. Charlotte grabs for her arm, and she absently squeezes back, carrying them both away from the chaos. There's not really anywhere for them to go.

Connor grabs his knife, brandishing it at Finn to keep him back, and Billie doesn't realize that her grip on Charlotte has tightened until the girl is trying to wrench her way out of it, moving forwards with a desperate shout, "Just _stop_ , okay?"

Billie can't hold her back. A few faces turn, distraught, but it isn't until Charlotte speaks again that everyone falls still.

"Murphy didn't kill Wells!" Charlotte announces, her eyes darting around. This must be the loudest she's spoken in a long time, and all eyes are on her. Billie's grip on her falters, and her hand eventually collapses to her side. She stares at the girl, suddenly feeling like she needs to put distance between them. "I did!"

She's glad she isn't holding onto her anymore. Everything slows down, people gape, Charlotte breathes heavily. Billie stares blankly at the crying little girl, the one she thought she knew, the one who slashed off Wells Jaha's fingers and stabbed him in the neck.

* * *

Whatever this is, it isn't right. And it needs to be stopped.

Murphy paces in front of them, his bloody face raging. He's more bloodthirsty than he's ever been before. His screams have been going on for what feels like _hours._

They've all been scared on the ground before, every single one of them. But there's no real solution to this. No right or wrong. Time is running out, all that's protecting Charlotte is the canvas of a too-small tent in the woods, pressure is building… It's terrifying.

Besides her, Octavia shifts on her feet. Bellamy lifts up the flap of the tent, striding into the clearing to meet Murphy, who saunters forwards. Billie can only see his shoulders, the back of his bloodied head. He wants even more of the stuff on his hands.

"Well, well, look who decided to join us," Murphy taunts.

"Call it down and back off," Bellamy says evenly.

They step closer to each other. "Or what?" she hears Murphy ask, "What are you gonna do, Bellamy, hang me?"

Their leader takes a breath, "I was just giving the people what they wanted."

Billie doesn't need to look to see how tense Octavia is. She glances to Jasper, and he glances back, swallowing thickly. Murphy speaks again.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's a good idea, why don't we do that right now?" he asks, turning back to everyone else. Billie wets her lips and averts her gaze, instead looking to the ground at his feet. "So who here wants to see the real murderer hung up? All in favor!"

He raises his hand. Mbege and a few others at the front raise theirs dutifully. Billie turns to see that no one else does, and she meets Octavia's wide eyes. She can't decide what's worse, a mob of criminals, or a desperate and enraged Murphy.

He lets his hand fall, clenching his jaw as he says, "I see. So it's okay to string me up for _nothing_ , but when this little bitch _confesses_ , you want to let her walk!"

There's a lengthy pause. Billie swallows.

"Cowards, all of you -"

"Hey! Murphy! Murphy," Bellamy steps in, marching forward, and the two glare at each other. "It's over."

 _No, it's not._

"Whatever you say, boss," Murphy says quietly.

Bellamy turns, but Murphy doesn't. He follows, launching forward to snatch up one of the piled up logs. Octavia lunges forward, and Billie hears herself yell out a warning, "Bellamy!"

Their leader is on the ground in an instant. She doesn't know if he's knocked out or just immobilized, but Murphy is tossing the stick away in an instant, turning to where Jasper is shoving back a screaming Octavia. He punches Jasper in the jaw, effectively knocking him out of the way, and Billie's rage peaks. She storms forward, bracing herself for throwing a punch, but the enraged boy grabs a fistful of her shirt and shakes her roughly, throwing her to the side. She falls like a dead weight, the ground hard beneath her.

"Come on, let's get the girl," Murphy says over his shoulder.

Mbege hops over Billie's legs, and she scrambles to her feet, ready to accept defeat. But the tent is empty, which means…

" _Charlotte_!" Murphy bellows, spinning away, "Charlotte, I know you can hear me! And when I find you, you are gonna pay!"

Billie finds herself staring at a stunned Jasper, who hasn't even made a move to get to his feet. "Shit," she says to him, and he blinks back. Murphy's going to kill Charlotte, he's going to force her neck through a noose and he's going to hang her. Clarke and Finn, she thinks, where the hell are Clarke and Finn…

She shoots to her feet, her boots flying against the dirt. Murphy and his men are already gone, off to pursue Charlotte. All Billie needs to do is make sure she gets there first.

She stands helplessly outside of the wall for a few minutes, staring around her knowing very well that time is running out. " _Damn_ it," she mutters, blocking out the commotion in camp behind her as everyone scrambles to recover. Which way would they go to take Charlotte - Finn, who spends his evenings exploring, and Clarke, the quick thinker. The tent, they escaped through the back of the tent, which leads...

Billie doesn't have time to reconsider. Her feet ruthlessly kick up fresh dirt as she takes off across the graveyard, delving into the trees.

* * *

It's dark by the time Billie hears voices. She's been moving tirelessly, rotating between a relentlessly fast-paced jog and a desperate run. But the farther she goes, the harder she thinks. This is pointless. Murphy will get there first, and that's assuming she's even going in the right direction. And if she's not, then she's alone in the middle of grounder territory, for all she knows.

Charlotte is going to die. Billie might die.

But she's already out here, and she'll be damned if she's not going to try.

The voices come from her left. Her jog slows immediately, and for a second, all she hears is crickets around her and the sound of her own heart as she struggles to catch her breath. The underbrush around her rustles, but it's only tiny animals scurrying around and rainwater dripping onto the ground.

And then, a voice that is distinctly Clarke's bursts, " _Look_ at me! You can't just kill someone to make yourself feel better!"

Billie hits the ground running, her boots slipping against the upwards slope. Another voice rings out, disturbingly close, "Charlotte! Clarke and Finn can't save you! The longer you hide, the longer you'll suffer!"

Finn sees Billie as soon as Clarke says, "We should run."

The blonde immediately notices the change of expression on Finn's face, because she spins. Clarke's eyes widen in worried confusion, and her face contorts into a frown. "Billie?" she breathes, looking like she's struggling to keep her voice down.

Billie inhales, looking between the two teenagers and informing them, "Murphy knocked out Bellamy. He's got Mbege, Chris, and Boone with him."

Clarke frown deepens, "But what are you –"

"They're not far behind," she hisses, "Come on, what's our next move?"

The blonde sets her jaw, the lost expression in her eyes obvious. Billie understands quickly - their only plan is to run as far as they can. Her heart sinks a little, and she diverts her gaze, happening upon Charlotte's lingering look of guilt. Billie turns away bluntly, taking a few steps towards Clarke, who sighs, "We need to keep moving."

"I like my plan better," Finn remarks with a frown, spinning into a crouch. Billie frowns incredulously at him, until he pulls up a wide, metal door. The rusty material groans as he props it open, revealing a darkened room below. Her look of discontent fades as she stares down curiously. Finn looks to Charlotte, nodding hastily at the ladder, "Get in."

The girl scrambles down the ladder until Billie can't see her anymore, then Clarke. Billie glances at the misty fog behind her before finding a foothold on the ladder, staring at the shadows beneath her before climbing the rest of the way down. Her boots land on hard cement, and she looks up to where Finn is dragging the door shut behind him, effectively blocking out any shred of light.

Clarke pulls out her flashlight first, and Billie is relieved. The bunker lights up before them, spacious and stacked with supplies. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust, but it's all strangely in order. It vaguely reminds her of the Ark, and she isn't sure if that scares her or comforts her, but she doesn't have time to get comfortable _or_ scared. As long as Charlotte is with them, something is always going to be unbalanced. Whatever solace that whatever solution they come up with will give (she's crossing her fingers for even a trace of an agreement), it won't be enough.

"Finn," Clarke speaks up quietly, "What is this place?"

The boy looks up, pursing his lips, "For now, it's home."

Billie sags against the shelves she's leaning on, letting her eyes flutter shut.

* * *

 **I still can't wrap my head around what happened to Charlotte, to be honest, which is part of the reason Billie has trouble collecting her thoughts in this chapter (haaaah whoops!). At this point, deep down, she doesn't want anything to happen to Charlotte, which is part of the reason she chases after them (another being that she trusts Clarke, Finn, and in this case, Bellamy enough to stand by them).**

 **Anyway, this chapter was super fun to write! Hope you enjoyed it! Favorite/follow/review :)**

 **Nessamir: Different POV chaps is honestly something I've never considered, and I actually think it's a really cool idea. Since I already have a lot of future chapters written (almost completely through season one), I probably wouldn't incorporate them into this specific story, but maybe post them as one-shots? I don't know, haha, but I will definitely keep it in mind for the future. And thanks again for reviewing! Keep letting me know what you think :)**

 **And also, to the two guest reviewers that I never really addressed (not sure if you're the same person): I'm so glad you enjoy this story! This is the first time I've ever posted anything like this, so I was ridiculously excited when I got my first reviews and they were so positive. Thank you!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Billie doesn't want to sleep, she doesn't want to talk. Her body is on overdrive, and she stalks throughout the bunker, rifling through the boxes on the shelves and tugging in frustration at the ends of her hair.

Clarke and Finn are sharing the couch, conversing quietly, and Billie hasn't engaged much with them as they discuss what's going to happen to Charlotte. It's obligation that makes her listen in.

Eventually, Clarke directly asks her what Murphy did to Bellamy, which leads to Billie's explanation of how she got here. As her story spirals to a close, she's already back to business, treading through the candle-lit aisles, Finn's borrowed flashlight in hand. There are a few books in here that she thinks she'd like to read in a different time, different place. She leafs through a few, peering at the pages cautiously, not wanting to get too attached.

It gets old.

There are things here that they can use somehow, the entire group, things that she knows she should be more interested in. All she's interested in is getting out of this. _This_ being the corner they've been backed into.

Charlotte's presence has been nagging at her all night. Clarke and Finn have been asleep for a little while, sitting up beside each other on the couch, and she looks to where the girl lays, huddled up, stark still. _She killed Wells, she covered it up, she murdered a perfectly innocent teenager, Wells is dead…_

Billie's thoughts are silenced as she slides the box back onto the shelf, snatching the flashlight and wandering over to the cot. Charlotte's face is shielded, her blankets bunched up over her shoulders. "I can't tell if you're actually asleep," Billie admits softly, "Either way, I don't know what to say."

The girl doesn't shift at all, and Billie narrows her eyes. Living with Marcus for half of her life has taught her how to recognize when someone is just pretending. He almost never got any sleep, but he had to avoid her questioning somehow.

"I don't know what made you kill Wells," she says after a second, staring intently at Charlotte.

In her head, her words to the girl are much harsher, but she can't bring herself to say them. _I don't know what kind of sick justification you gave yourself that led you to slash a boy's throat open, and I never want to find out._

"And I don't think I can forgive you."

 _I can already feel myself forgiving you, and it's tearing me apart. I hate what you've done and I hate that I'm not angrier with you._

"We were all supposed to look after each other, remember?" Billie says, but she can feel her resolve crumbling. Charlotte is thirteen, she's thirteen and terrified and overwhelmed and _awake_ listening to everything Billie is saying. But she can't stop. Her voice breaks as she hisses, "That was how it was supposed to be, Charlotte."

 _I'm still looking after you and I have no fucking clue why._

She pauses for a long time. Charlotte seems tenser than before, but Billie can't be sure. Her eyes are swimming, her breathing is shallow. She wants to scream. "Just go to sleep, okay?" Billie mutters finally, stepping back with her head in her hands.

She doesn't plan on even attempting to sleep, but once she's settled on the floor it's hard for her to resist shutting her eyes. Her thoughts won't stop wrestling back and forth, but the weight of her eyelids is too much. The entire bunker is quiet, no trace of movement. She stares at the light of the candles until they blur into nothing.

And when she wakes up soon after, it's to the same quiet bunker. But something is different, and that something is –

"Hey," Billie says, climbing to her feet. Her voice grows frantic, "Hey, get up!"

She looks to Clarke, who picks her head up from Finn's shoulder and blinks blearily, her eyes concerned. Finn is less receptive, but Billie can care less. Her feet carry her to where she stood last night, hovering directly over where Charlotte is supposed to be.

"Charlotte's gone," she tells them breathlessly.

* * *

All they have to do is follow the light of the torches.

Billie might have been at war with herself earlier, so unsure, but she feels like the angry fog has been lifted. Murphy has Charlotte, and Billie has come to terms with how she feels.

She doesn't want Charlotte to die tonight.

She thinks that out of the three of them, she's the fastest. Her feet carry her ahead, but her mind is fighting back, sensing that something is wrong. It's the trees, she realizes, they thin out until there's nothing but the open night sky. She stumbles to a stop, but Clarke plows on, bursting into the clearing with a shout, "Bellamy, stop!"

Billie and Finn follow, and her eyes immediately skim over the vast nothingness in front of them. Bellamy and Charlotte's feet are planted just before the rocky edge of the cliff, and she looks down at the girl, eyes wide. It's impossible to convey everything, how sorry she is, how badly she just wants to talk this through. She never should have said any of those things last night.

Charlotte's tear stained eyes just stare morosely back.

"This has gone too far," Clarke says gently, but Billie can sense her panic just beneath the surface. "Just calm down, we'll talk about this."

Billie wants to think that it'll work. Everyone does, except Murphy.

He grabs Clarke before anyone can move, his arm wrapping around her. His knife hovers above her neck, and she tries to look at him through the corner of her eye. Billie freezes, staring at them. "Let her go," Finn tries.

"Back off! I will slit her throat," Murphy grits out, his eyes malicious as he stares at Finn. Billie doesn't feel so sorry for the boy, not anymore.

"No, please!" Charlotte pleads, her lip trembling as she stares up at them. "Don't hurt her."

Murphy pauses. "Don't hurt her? Okay, I'll make you a deal. You come with me right now, I will let her go."

Billie tries to steady her breathing, but she can't. Her friend has a knife at her throat, another friend is the bargaining chip. She glances between Murphy and Clarke, then to Finn's mediator stance, then to the lost look in Bellamy's eyes. "Charlotte," she warns quietly.

But the girl just stares, her eyes darting around. She's thinking about it.

Clarke notices this, too, because she says, "Don't do it, Charlotte."

The little girl in question just tightens her jaw and tries to move forward, but Bellamy holds out an arm, his eyes wide. They struggle for a second as he tries to contain her, but she screams wildly, "No, I have to!"

They stop, and he grasps her shoulders. For the first time, Billie is staring at Bellamy's determined face with some shred of hope. She tells herself he can fix this. The look in his eyes tells her that he's not so sure.

"Murphy, this is not happening," he says, but it doesn't seem like he's thought ahead past this, because he stops blankly.

Behind him, Charlotte is shaking her head sadly. Billie's mouth is open as she stares at her, and when the girl finally makes eye contact, it's with tears in her eyes. "I can't let anyone get hurt anymore," she whispers, and everyone looks to her. "Not because of me. Not after what I did."

There's a look in her eyes that Billie is only just now seeing, and then it's too late.

"Charlotte!" Clarke's scream pierces the air, but the little girl is turning, her feet easily carrying her towards the edge. Bellamy grabs at her, but he only comes up with thin air.

She's gone. Who knows when she'll hit the bottom.

Billie's breath escapes her throat, leaving her gasping for air. One hand reaches to cover her mouth as her face warps into a sob, but she bites it back. The other reaches to her side, brushing against the bark of a tree. Her shoulders crash against it, and she slumps, staring at the two bodies crouched at the top of the cliff. There are tears in her eyes. Pretty soon, they're going to spill.

* * *

"So how are you doing?"

The fire isn't keeping Billie warm at all. She glances to the side, where Sterling stands with his hands in his pockets. A sour smile forms on her face, and she shakes her head, turning back to the glowing embers in the pit in front of her.

"Not very good," she answers.

Sterling takes a breath, moving a bit closer. "Sorry. Today sucked."

"Yeah," she says lowly, "It really did."

A second passes, and Billie lifts her head suddenly, looking at him with curious eyes. He blinks back, somewhat concerned. Unsure of what to say, she hums thoughtfully. She likes Sterling. That might have to do with the fact that he doesn't hate her, but more so because he's actually kind to her. In the short time they've been on the ground, they haven't ran into each other too often, but the few times that they have, all he's ever done is try to include her.

"What?" he asks.

Billie looks back to the fire, shaking her head. She's exhausted, but the tiniest of smiles sits on her face. "Nothing, Sterling," she says.

"Hey, um," he stops, pausing to frown nervously. She looks back at him expectantly, and now the tiny smile has turned into a wider, patient one. He smiles back, squinting, "Are you hungry? They went out hunting today while you were gone, my friend says there's some boar left. We could, uh, just go grab some -"

An electric shock flares up Billie's arm, but it's gone in an instant. "What the hell?" she mutters in alarm, trying to inspect her wristband. It seems fine, but her gut is telling her otherwise. It's telling her that things have just gotten much worse.

"Um, what?" Sterling asks, alarmed.

She glances up briefly. His eyes are wide, probably thinking that he did something wrong. She shakes her head, frowning, "This thing just malfunctioned, or something."

"Your wristband?" he gapes.

"Yeah," Billie replies absently, but she's already looking up. There aren't many people left with wristbands in the hundred, but she recognizes that the few who do are reacting similarly, staring in confusion at the bands on their arms. Her face falls, and she looks back to her own with a sinking feeling. She gives a shuddering breath, "Oh. No, no, don't do that…"

"Hey, what's up with the wristbands?" someone calls, but Billie doesn't care to stop.

She leaves the fire, forgetting all about Sterling, and storms towards the drop ship, intersecting Octavia on the ramp. She snatched the girls arm, forcing her to a stop. Octavia just turns to her with a regretful sigh. "What happened?" Billie demands, eyes wide.

Octavia clenches her jaw, her eyebrows creasing apologetically, "It was an accident, okay? Monty was trying to fix communications with the Ark, and it just…"

Billie licks her lips, tears filling up behind her eyes. "They're all broken, aren't they?"

Octavia falls silent, looking at her with sincerity, "Sorry, Billie."

She looks away, wiping her face with a deep, wavering breath. She tells herself to calm down, but it's not working. This useless piece of shit is broken, and now Marcus has no way of knowing if she's alive or dead or _anything_ , this was not supposed to happen…

Octavia gives her an apologetic smile before backing away, sidestepping her. Billie just stands rigidly on the ramp, tears dripping down her face. After a moment of deep breathing and panicked thoughts, she finally forces her feet to move, and her eyes sweep over the camp.

Billie meets Sterling's gaze from where he still stands at the fire, and he gives her a sad look. She tries to nod back, but she isn't really sure that it works, and she's shoving her way inside the drop-ship before she can think too much about it. She manages to keep her face composed for most of the walk to her bed spread, but it crumples before she can quite reach it.

She did everything right, and it still went wrong.

* * *

Billie doesn't move from where she sits, her sore legs spread out in front of her, her back supported by the drop ship seat she's positioned herself in. Her eyes quietly follow what's happening above her.

The flares are airborne, bright and entirely too unreal. They illuminate the night sky, crackling warmly as they shoot into the atmosphere.

Around her, people are on their feet, standing in one massive crowd. Some faces are smiling, some faces are in awe. Not so deep down, everyone is worried. The flares just shrink away from them, lifting higher and higher into the air like some sort of dream.

Those are to you, dad, Billie thinks, letting her head fall back against the headrest. The place on her arm where her wristband used to be feels too empty, like something should be there and when she remembers what it is, she's upset all over again.

They've been working tirelessly since dusk. Billie never was able to fall back asleep after the pod dropped, busy wondering why the Ark would send something down if they think they're all dead. She wonders what makes them have hope. She wants Marcus to have hope, up there, even without the reassuring signals from her wristband.

To say the least, Billie hasn't had a great couple of days. Charlotte's fate is all too fresh in her mind, and she's farther away from her father than she ever has been.

And now, she has to deal with a hundred pissed off teenagers. She's heard it all today. Three hundred people are going to be killed today and it's your dad's fault. I bet you're real proud of him, huh? Looks like he took some notes when you tried to kill that worker. He's a murderer. How can you live with yourself? With him?

She's numb to it all.

Around her, camp is quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts. How many of their own families are going to be sacrificed if this plan doesn't work? Each and every one of them is stuck without knowing.

The flares never quite leave their sight, but it's gotten to the point where they're so small in the sky, there's no point in continuing to stare. They've done it. And now all that's left is their faith that it will amount to something.

Bodies start to move. A familiar beanie ducks past Billie, and she catches a sideways glimpse of Nate's face as he strides past. He doesn't even glance in her direction.

Billie sighs, looking back to the distant flares. They look like any old star, now.

* * *

"My sister's been out there alone for twelve hours," Bellamy says, eyeing the pile of weapons at his feet, "Arm up. We're not coming back without her."

Billie hasn't slept for over a day. The only reason she's on her feet now is because she happens to think of Octavia as a friend.

She stands alone, waiting while everyone around her moves forward to grab something. When it's her turn, she hunches over the pile and slowly grabs a big knife, much longer than her own. She weighs it in her hand before deciding it's better than nothing, and trails along after everyone.

In front of her, Clarke stands to face Finn. Neither of them seem especially happy, and Finn's eyebrows are knitted in earnest.

She passes by them with nothing more than a suspicious look.

"Ready to go?" Sterling is talking before she even notices him approach.

Billie glances over, her eyebrows raised at the club in his hands. She sighs, nodding, "Guess so. Hopefully this won't take too long."

"Why, you have plans?" Sterling asks, a tiny smile on his face.

She snorts disbelievingly, shaking her head. It's still hard to believe he's even talking to her. "Yeah," she tells him, "I was planning a really cool night. It had to do with sleeping, but apparently that's a luxury we don't get to have."

He laughs under his breath, and they're quiet for a minute. Billie tries to get a view of Bellamy, who should be leading the search party, and when she doesn't find him, she looks back to Clarke. Now she looks like she's been stunned into an upset silence, and Finn still has that hopeful look in his eyes. She'll figure that out later, assuming she makes it back to camp.

"We'll find Octavia," Sterling suddenly tells her, "And everyone on the Ark will be fine. All of us, too."

Billie frowns, looking over to him slowly. Quietly, she asks, "How can you say that?"

He shrugs, glancing at everyone around them before turning back to her. That smile is still on his face, a little more confident this time. "I'm thinking, if I make myself say it enough, maybe… I'll be able to start believing it."

Billie smiles at the grass under her boots.

"Guys. Guys, come here! What is that?"

"It's so bright. You see that?"

She glances over to see Sterling's mouth open, squinting at the sky. Wordlessly, he lifts a hand to point upwards, and she follows his gaze.

Bright white lights fan out from the sky, flashing and blinking as they spread over the clouds. It looks beautiful, nothing like anything she's ever seen before. She should be excited, but she's absolutely terrified. Old astronomy books never said anything about this.

Raven voices her concerns, "They didn't work. They didn't see the flares."

Sterling's arm drops to his side with a thud.

"A meteor shower tells you that?" Bellamy asks skeptically.

"It's not a meteor shower, it's a funeral," Clarke says thickly. Her eyes turn back to the sky, wide with disappointment, "Hundreds of bodies being returned to the ground from the Ark. This is what it looks like from the other side. They didn't get our message."

Billie's eyes flutter shut. She reminds herself to breathe. She can't look at the sky anymore, not without imagining it.

"This is all because of you!" she hears Raven spit furiously.

"I helped you find the radio," Bellamy's voice protests.

"Yeah, after you jacked it from my pod and trashed it," Raven yells, her voice accusatory. Billie doesn't want to hear it. She just wants to sink into the dirt and never return.

"He knows," Clarke says, "And now he has to live with it."

Billie wonders what Marcus is doing right now, what he's thinking. How could he give up so easily? Has he even considered the possibility that they've made it? Her dad is probably sad. He's probably guilty.

Billie opens her eyes and sees reproachful faces, hesitant glances. She can't feel numb anymore.

A shaky hand fits its way into hers, and she glances down at it. Sterling just squeezes her hand quickly, but doesn't let go just yet. She can feel him looking at her with those big green eyes, but she just stares at the way their fingers loosely encase each other.

"I guess I didn't say it enough," he whispers.

Billie squeezes his hand back.

* * *

 **Yeah, so Billie's having a bit of a rough time in this chapter, clearly. The good news is that Sterling is being introduced to the story! Expect to see a lot more of him, aha. I don't even remember where I got the idea to include him as more of a major character from, but he will definitely play a role in Billie's story. It's kind of like working with two OC's, which for me, is a ton of fun, and I hope you like it as much as I do! Let me know what you think of him so far :)**

 **On another note, I finally got around to adding a cover image for this! It's my own drawing of how I've been imagining Billie (if I had to use a faceclaim, the closest I've seen is probably Adelaide Kane though). That being said, it's just a sketch and is kinda rough, lol, so I'll probably update it when I get around to working on a better picture.**

 **Anyway, thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked this chapter :)**

 **Follow/favorite/review, please! It would mean a ton.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Now that they're actually on the move, it feels like there are significantly less of them. Billie's taken to silence, keeping her eyes peeled and her breathing shallow as she walks side by side with Jasper. Sterling and Monroe march ahead, but she feels much better at the center of the group.

Mbege may not be her favorite person, but the slope is his discovery. They all hover at the top, watching in apprehensive silence as Bellamy slides down the hill, connecting with the bush as he tries to slow his footsteps. Whatever he finds, it's enough.

"It's hers!" he announces.

Billie doesn't know whether to think this is a good lead or a bad sign, but when Jasper steps towards the rope, she tenses immediately, hissing, "What are you doing?"

Jasper turns back to her wordlessly, handing her his torch. The recovering boy's eyes say it all, though, and she purses her lips. All she can do is watch while he grabs hold of the rope and stumbles down the slope.

Finn brings the first torch down, and then Billie follows. Her feet catch a little on the rocky slope, and she loses balance more than once, but it's over before she knows it. She holds the torch above her head and frowns at the way they're all clustered together. "Someone else was here," Bellamy says.

"Prints are deeper going that way," Finn mutters, "He was carrying her."

"Who? Like a grounder?" Sterling is behind her, talking as quietly as he can. Billie shakes her head without answering, watching with narrowed eyes as Jasper squirms.

"If they took her, she's alive," he says, "Like when they took me."

Billie thinks of days and days of suffering and unconscious groans. She thinks back to the giant tree that he was tied to, the one she told herself she would forget about. And then she thinks to Octavia.

Bellamy is off his feet in an instant, hardly waiting for the entire search party to make it down the hill. Billie lifts her torch again, following the trail with a new urgency in her step.

They hike until their torches illuminate something that is very distinctly not natural.

Ancient looking skeletons loom above their heads, propped up on stakes and hanging from branches. The path delves between the crispy bones until it disappears into shadow. Everyone has stopped walking, their eyes attempting to soak everything in. Billie tries to look away, but she just can't.

"I don't speak grounder," Finn finally remarks, "But I'm pretty sure this means keep out."

Billie finally tears her gaze away to frown at him. She doesn't disagree. Whatever this place is, they aren't supposed to be here. That much has been made very clear.

"Let's get out of here," someone behind Sterling says. Mutters of agreement follow, but no one's willing to say much more. She wonders who they're more scared of, the grounders, or Bellamy.

Billie tightens her grip on her torch, scuffing her boot against the ground. She adjusts her hold on her knife, her eyes darting across the blackened trees around them. It's so dark.

"Go back if you want," Bellamy says decisively, not even sparing a backwards glance. His feet carry him, descending down the path. His next comment is barely audible, but Billie catches it, "My sister, my responsibility."

Everyone shifts on their feet, but no one dares speak, until Jasper murmurs to himself, "I'd walk into hell to find her…"

Billie doesn't let herself think too hard. She just moves, letting her feet carry her down the path. Finn follows just behind her, and she moves to Jasper's side, pursing her lips.

"I think we just did," she tells him.

Her heart never does stop racing. When she checks, Monroe is tentatively following, weapon in hand. Sterling is nowhere to be found. It takes them a while, but Finn finally manages to find more tracks, leading them away from the terror that they'd walked into, and he signals for them to follow.

They walk until morning, fanning out through the trees. Billie likes the forest, she really does, just not when she's completely lost in hostile territory.

"I've got nothing," Finn finally utters, "We lost the trail."

"Keep looking," Bellamy tells him.

Billie sighs to herself, stepping over a giant log. All around her, there are only mossy trees glowing in the morning light. There's nothing to signify any sort of village or encampment, nowhere they could be holding Octavia.

"Wandering around aimlessly isn't the way to find your sister," Finn protests, "We should backtrack, check -"

"I'm not going back," Bellamy snaps.

"Hey," Roma cuts in, looking around at the group, "Where's John?"

Billie freezes, her eyes widening in fear as she turns to look for Mbege. But the boy is nowhere in sight. "I just saw him a second ago," Jasper breathes warily.

"Spread out," Bellamy says after a second, "Couldn't have gotten that far."

Seeing no other option, Billie begins to move, but none of them get a chance to follow through with his plan. Something flies down from above, smacking against the ground with a heart wrenching thud. Billie stiffens immediately, drawing out her machete as she tries to tear her eyes away from Mbege's bloody throat. A vile feeling climbs up her throat, a sickness settling in her stomach. They're here.

"They're using the trees," Finn says from above the body.

"We shouldn't have crossed the boundary."

"Now can we go back?" Roma demands.

Billie looks between everyone quickly. Monroe looks wary, Roma looks irritated. Jasper is wildly looking around, his eyes on the forest around them. "There," he says, and she follows his gaze. A figure stands in the distance, bulky and bristling.

Her heart stops, and her breathing turns into a whine as she spins around, her feet carrying her forwards. A second figure catches her eye, darting between trees before positioning itself in a threatening stance. "Another one," she tells everyone.

Her hands are suddenly sweaty as she grips her knife, and she tries to breathe again. But there's no time.

"We should run," Finn whispers, and all it takes is a nervous nod from Bellamy for Billie's feet to jolt into motion.

She races towards the front of the group, easily taking the lead. Her thoughts are a blur, she doesn't know where she's going, only that she needs to get away from here. Her eyes dart across the forest, to the blurry grounders herding her along, right on her tail. She can hardly breathe, but she'll be damned if she stops running. Her feet fall in line with her heartbeat, and it consumes her senses. Nothing else exists but the path in front of her and the grounders chasing her.

Minutes pass. A fire is burning in her calves. Nothing improves.

"What are we gonna do? They keep cutting us off!" Monroe shouts.

"Keep running!" Finn hollers back.

Billie weaves between two close-knit trees, dropping down onto a lower clearing. She's managed to keep from tripping, but in the scheme of things, that hardly matters.

"I can't run much longer," Jasper calls, his voice mangled by exhaustion.

"We're not stopping for him!"

"I'm sick of running anyway," she hears Bellamy say, "They know where she is."

Billie's boots skid against moss until she can finally get a foothold, and everything is happening too fast. She's farther than anyone else, and the grounders are closing in, running. Jasper calls out to her, but she's just backing away, her eyes locked on the blurry figure that isn't so blurry anymore.

His mask is painted, plumes flying from his head like a wild mane. She can't see his eyes, only hunching shoulders and metal plates piecing together the rags he wears. His feet slam against the ground lithely, and she scrambles to get back to the group.

Roma is off, cutting past Billie with a frantic yell, "Diggs! Where are you?"

Billie stops, staring in bewilderment between Roma and the rest of the group. Time is flying past, she can't think, she doesn't want to die –

Bellamy and Finn start running again, this time after Roma. Diggs yells out from somewhere, and then Roma is gone. All Billie can do is turn her back to the grounder, taking off after Roma as she dives through the trees.

A mangled scream filters through the trees, piercing Billie's ears, and she almost falls over.

"Wait, Roma!" Finn protests, and she catches a glimpse of the girl's back disappearing behind a tree. "Stop!"

Diggs is dead. Blood pours down his chin and his eyes are blankly open. Some sort of contraption speared him through the chest. Billie chokes on her own breath just looking at him.

"They're leading us here," Jasper realizes, his voice trembling, "It's the only direction we could run in."

Billie doesn't have time to feel more dread than she already does. She's spinning around, looking between trees and into the fog, but the grounder with the mask is nowhere in sight. "Where'd he go?" she asks.

"After Roma," Bellamy answers, already running.

"Shit," she hisses, taking off after him.

And for a while, the forest is empty. Billie jogs next to Monroe, keeping an eye out. She's starting to think she'll never let go of this machete.

"There she is," Monroe mutters, and they both stop. Billie sees a pair of shoulders from behind a tree, and she puts her hands on her knees, hunching over. Monroe hisses, "Roma!"

Roma's dead, too. Spear through the heart, only she wasn't as lucky as Jasper. For the second time that day, Billie thinks she might throw up. She looks at the girl's bloody mouth for a second too long, and spins around to hurl onto the ground.

"They're playing with us," Finn decides.

Bellamy doesn't answer for a while. He shuts Roma's eyes gently and shakes his head, "She only came because of me."

"They can kill us whenever they want," Finn continues, looking around.

Billie wipes her mouth on her sleeve, letting her eyes shut briefly as she straightens. Octavia had better be alive when they find her. Before she can ask what they do next, Jasper is bellowing, "Then they should get it over with! _Come on_!"

"Jasper, shut up!" Billie says, her eyes wide.

Finn grabs his shoulders and yells, "Stop it!"

"We know you're out there!" Jasper screams at the sky, "Come on!"

"Bellamy!" Monroe yells over him, and they all turn. Billie's face falls blank. She doesn't know where to look. Dozens of grounders have appeared, rushing forward from all directions. Their weapons catch the sunlight.

She grips her knife tightly, holding it in front of her as steadily as she can. All around her, the group backs up, shoulders bumping together as they all try to figure out a way to get out alive.

This time, there's nowhere to run.

They aren't slaughtered. They aren't even touched. None of them come face to face with a grounder. They all stop a few paces away, confusion clear in their stance. A horn blows over the trees, echoing through the forest. And as quickly as they appeared, the grounders are gone.

"They're leaving," Bellamy breathes after a moment.

"Yeah," Billie gasps for air, "But why?"

"That horn. What does it mean?" Jasper murmurs.

Finn is fumbling with his pack suddenly, drawing out the fabric of a tent as quickly as he can. There's a strange look in his eye as he says, "Acid fog."

She thinks back to how the drop ship was flooded. That girl said it made everyone's skin burn, it stopped them from breathing. It mutilated Atom. And now they're stranded in the woods with a tent that they can only hope will keep them safe.

At least the grounders have scattered.

"We have to run," Monroe says, but Finn's already finishing unfolding the fabric.

He shakes his head, "There's no time."

* * *

"Hell of a day," Monroe says to her.

Billie sighs shakily, rubbing her eyes. "Hell of a day," she repeats under her breath. Around them, the forest is still. She can't hear what they're saying inside the grounder's cave behind them. "Hey, you know Sterling? He, uh, turned around, right?"

The girl glances over with a stoic nod, "Good thing he did. He's a great friend, but there's no way he could have survived that."

"Oh," Billie nods to herself, looking closely at the knife, "Yeah, alright."

"We got lucky," Monroe says quietly. When Billie glances over, her face is stony, and her eyes are still narrowed at the forest, keeping guard loyally. But there might be a shred of fear in the way she grinds her teeth, or the way her gaze darts around.

"The ground's a lot more terrifying than they told us it would be," she mutters in response.

Monroe skips a beat, and then says with a much lighter tone than Billie expected, "He's totally into you. You know that, right?"

Billie frowns incredulously, looking over at her with wide eyes. Monroe's eyebrows are raised, there's even some ghost of an expectant grin on her face. "Who?" she asks sharply.

"Sterling," the blonde tells her.

This is news to her. She looks away, rolling her shoulders a bit. She isn't sure if she should shrug it off or say something back, but before she can decide, Monroe laughs under her breath, "Relax. That's not a bad thing."

Billie glances over, but the girl is looking away again. She sighs and follows her lead, keeping her eyes on the trees as dusk settles. Eventually, she manages to steer the topic away from whatever Monroe was looking to talk about. "I just hope Finn can get us home."

"He's a tracker," Monroe says, like that's reassurance enough.

A scream interrupts the conversation they were having. "Stop! That's my brother!"

Octavia flashes through Billie's mind, and she exchanges a wide-eyed glance with Monroe before pulling out her knife again. The blonde nods, but Billie's already delving back into the cave, just in time to see Jasper smack a giant grounder in the back of the head with a stick.

She stops short in the tunnel's entrance, struggling to make sense of everything in the dark. Bellamy is on the ground, but he seems fine. Finn is, too, but something's wrong. Octavia kneels next to him, her hands cupping his stomach, and Jasper quickly stumbles to the ground next to them, panic behind his teary eyes.

There's a knife in their tracker's chest.

* * *

 **This was a pretty short chapter, but I kind of didn't have a choice with how I had to break up these next few chapters. I hope you enjoyed all the action!**

 **Also, my traffic stats for this story haven't been working for a while, which means that I can't see how many readers these few chapters have been getting. I'm pretty new to FFN, and I was just going to ride it out until it fixes itself, but if anyone has any other suggestions, please let me know, haha! I want to know if people are liking the new updates :)**

 **Thanks so much for continuing to favorite this story! It means a ton. Review/favorite/follow, if you want!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks for reading! My traffic stats are working again :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

"What are you doing up here?"

Billie wakes up seconds before Bellamy asks. Frowning, she blinks blearily at him before snatching up her jacket from the floor and climbing to her feet. "Trying to get some sleep," she grunts, eyeing the bandaged and wounded man that the boys are hauling up the ladder. His eyes are swollen over, his lips bloody. "Looks like you're here to do a lot worse."

The grounder's body slumps against the floor with a thud, still completely unconscious. Messily, Nate clambers up after him, and Billie stares at him sourly. "Get out of here, Kane," Bellamy disregards her.

Billie walks around the grounder's form slowly, peering down at him. She's almost expecting him to lurch to his feet at any second and strangle one of them to death. But he doesn't. The fabric on his back is torn in some places, and the bloody cuts on his face are still oozing. She has a feeling that by the end of this all, he's going to look a lot worse. Don't think about it, Billie, she tells herself.

"Yeah, I'm going," she grumbles, sidestepping Drew and drawing open the hatch. With a lingering glance, she climbs down onto the second floor, frowning at the commotion. It seems like most of the hundred are stowed away up here.

"Billie!" Sterling calls suddenly, rushing over with scrambling footsteps. He appears in front of her, his blonde locks ruffed up and bags under his glistening eyes.

She smiles tiredly, zippering her jacket over her silver shirt and meeting him halfway, "Hey."

"You're okay, right?" he asks, looking her over, "Where have you been?"

Billie nods her assurance, "Asleep upstairs, and thanks, but I'm fine. Just exhausted."

He looks skeptical, "Really? Are you sure?"

She raises her eyebrows, smirking despite herself, "I'm sure, Sterling. Promise. Hey, what's everybody doing up here?"

"The storm," Sterling says over the noise of everyone else's conversations, "It's getting really bad. They're closing the doors down there and everything."

"Is that where Finn is?" Billie asks him.

Sterling's face lights up, and she frowns uncertainly as he says excitedly, "You're never gonna believe this! I mean, wait, yeah. Finn's still down there. But this isn't really about that, well, okay. Sort of. Just, wait for it, okay?"

Billie's frown only deepens, and she lets him walk her to the hatch. "Okay… What?"

He grins happily at her, leaning in to say, "That girl Raven got the radios to work. Last time I checked, they were communicating with the Ark." Billie falls completely silent, her face blank. Sterling sees this, and he plows on, a little less confidently this time, "I mean, they have Doctor Griffin talking right now, to deal with Finn, but…"

Billie grins, then laughs in delight, cutting him off with a light smack across his chest. She beams, "Holy shit! She did it?"

"Yeah," Sterling replies.

"Oh my god," she runs a hand through her hair, looking at him with wide eyes. "That's amazing! That's... That's really, really good. Oh my god."

"I know!" he exclaims triumphantly.

Billie paces back and forth for a second, planting her hands on his shoulders happily. Her thoughts are racing, but she manages to pull away, her feet carrying her towards the hatch. "I – I need to go, but Clarke will probably kick me out so -"

Sterling just grins widely, dimples and all, "I'll see you later, Billie. Good luck."

Billie smiles at him, and he throws her a pair of thumbs-up. By the time she's halfway down the ladder, letting the door shut behind her as everything falls quiet, a few key things are dawning on Billie. Communicating with the Ark isn't the only thing they have to deal with. Finn is still on the operating table, his life in Clarke's hands. There's a storm outside that very well could be life-threatening. And Monroe told her just this morning that Sterling has an apparent thing for her.

On top of it all, she finally registers the miserable groaning sound.

"Almost got it," Clarke is saying, "Hold still!"

Billie's eyes widen, her heart picking up as she treads into the room as quietly as she can. Clarke slowly draws a bloody knife out of Finn's ribcage while Raven holds down his shoulders, leaving the boy wheezing in pain. Billie nearly forgets about the radio, which is silent apart from a buzzing static, as she stares in concern at Finn's obvious suffering.

The next thing she knows, she's on her knees, barely catching herself against the floor. The drop-ship groans violently, shaking on its feet. There are screams from upstairs, and Billie's hair flies around her face as she turns to face the wall, or rather, what should've been the wall.

The light fixtures are on the floor, and the thick metal is pierced through-and-through. Sharp branches peek through, but Billie only has time to blink at it for a second. Clarke is on the floor, the table is empty, Billie doesn't even see Raven.

"Clarke!" Abby's static-filled voice demands. "Clarke? What happened?"

"Is he okay?" Billie demands, scrambling to her feet. She doesn't have time to think about voices transmitting from the Ark. She stares at the knife in Clarke's hands, intricately carved and dripping in blood. That could have very easily killed Finn, but he just lifts his head slightly, staring helplessly at Clarke.

"It's out," Raven croaks, shuffling to a kneel as she calls towards the radio. "She did it."

Abby is quick to congratulate Clarke, and Billie gives her a supporting smile. Raven helps her to her feet, smelling strongly of Monty's moonshine, and the three of them work together to haul Finn back onto the table. He's still speechless, and clearly still in pain as he clutches the now open wound. Abby is already giving Clarke instructions on how to proceed, and the blonde starts unwrapping the wires. Billie watches her string it through the needle, and then turns away for the rest of it.

"Almost got it," Clarke eventually mutters.

"Is it safe for me to look?" Billie asks, chancing a peek over her shoulder. Clarke gives her a tired smile, nodding in answer. She wanders over to their side of the room, propping her elbows against one of the ledges on the walls, and squints at Clarke's work.

Finally, Clarke exhales, leaning back. "Okay. I'm done."

"Good," Abby says immediately, "Do you have anything to cover the wound?"

"We'll make due, like always," Clarke answers, her voice mellow. Billie purses her lips.

"Should he be this pale?" Raven intercedes, frowning down at Finn, "Warm, too."

"He's lost a lot of blood, Raven. But if your boyfriend's anywhere near as tough as you, I'm sure he'll be fine," Abby answers fondly.

This makes Billie perk up. Boyfriend? Her eyes zero in on Raven, who just screws up her face, and then she glances back to Clarke and Finn. The two girls exchange a strange look, and Billie's face falls. Something certainly went on between her two friends, and it wasn't necessarily for the better.

Clarke sighs, putting her hand to Finn's chest. Billie tenses at the look on her face, immediately stepping away from the wall and nearing the table. "Wait, mom, she's right," the girl says slowly, "He's feverish. And his breathing is unusual."

"We just need to give him some time to recover," Abby assures her. "Let me know if it gets any worse, but I think he might just be out of the woods."

Billie looks to Clarke, who seems very unsatisfied with this answer. "Well down here, there's nothing but woods," she spits. Leaning back, her head in her hands, she stands decisively, shaking her head, "I need a break."

"Clarke," Abby starts, but the blonde is already walking away, "Clarke, wait! Uh, Raven, could you give us a – a few minutes?"

Billie raises her eyebrows, unsure if she should make it known that she's here as well, but Clarke cuts everyone off. "No," she says from the doorway, "No, stay with Finn." She disappears from sight without another word.

Raven smiles at Billie awkwardly, but there's something off in her eyes. Billie just licks her lips, waiting a second to make sure Finn doesn't suddenly wake up now that Clarke's gone, before crossing the room to stand by the radio. "Abby?" she asks after a second. There's only static on the other end. "Uh, it's Billie Kane. Are you there?"

"I'm here, Billie," Abby says after a long second. "Good to hear your voice."

"Uh, yeah. You too," she says unsurely, shuffling her feet. This is the woman who got Clarke's father floated. Every time Clarke thinks of Jake, she'll see Abby's face, devising a plan with the Chancellor, turning her husband in. Billie doesn't see a face when she thinks of Nat getting floated, and she can't imagine what her friend is going through, even just from hearing Abby's voice. Raven gives her a questioning look as Billie swallows thickly, building up the courage to finally ask Abby, "I know this isn't really a great time, but I was just - could you tell me if my dad's okay?"

Abby sighs, the radio making her voice cut in and out as she says, "You're breaking up, Billie, say that again."

Billie bites her lip, glancing to Raven before saying, louder, "Is my dad alright?"

The doctor sounds confused, but maybe that's just the static, "Yes, your father is fine. Why do you ask?"

It takes Billie a second to decipher the string of words she hears over the radio. Raven sees her problem and crosses the room, spinning a few knobs on the device, while the other girl leans against the table, letting her stringy hair fall in her face. After a second, the mechanic gives her a pointed look, signaling for her to speak. "Just checking in," Billie speaks up, peering at the radio, "He should know that I'm alive."

It sounds like Abby tries to answer, but nothing comes through. Billie looks up to see Raven frowning deeply, wildly adjusting the radio. Another dreadful, ground-shaking grumble comes from outside, but Billie manages to keep on her feet this time.

"This goddamn storm," Raven says in frustration.

"Not working?" Billie asks cautiously.

Raven drops the radio back onto the table, shaking her head, "It'll work when there's not so much interference." With a sour glance at the radio, the girl departs from the table, moving back to where Finn lies, sleeping.

Billie just sighs, pulling herself onto the table and letting her feet swing back and forth.

"So," Raven says after a second, "How come you're so worried about your dad?"

"Three hundred people on the Ark died last night," Billie answers quietly, pulling out her knife to twirl it between her fingers. She stares at the blade morosely. "Kinda doubt he's having a great week."

But that's not the only reason she wants to check in. Because no one likes Marcus Kane, especially now. And if someone got her on the drop ship to earth, then someone is after him again. Like when Nat died.

Raven raises her eyebrows in silent agreement. "No one is. But we'll get over it."

Billie watches the girl stare longingly at Finn for a second before forcing herself to look away. She feels like Clarke should be here right now.

Finn starts suddenly, and Billie looks over in alarm, just in time to see his entire body pick up and tremble violently, white foam slipping from his mouth. She leaps to her feet, and Raven desperately tries to stop the seizing, but to no avail.

Clarke should definitely be here right now.

* * *

"You should go," Nate suddenly says.

Billie hovers by the hatch, her eyes wide as she watches Bellamy cut the seatbelt loose. Wordlessly, she shakes her head.

"Billie," he repeats, "Go downstairs."

"No," she says, wrenching her arm away from him.

Bellamy cuts the grounder's shirt away, letting it fall to the floor. The man has a steely look in his eyes, but he stares at nothing. Billie can hear her heart racing, and she wrings her hands. Clarke gives the order, because Finn is poisoned and dying, and only the grounder who stabbed him can tell them how to heal him.

The grounder hardly flinches when it smacks against his chest, but Billie does. Nate growls under his breath, but she ignores him.

Clarke dives onto the ground, scrambling the vials at his feet. "Please. Which one's the antidote?" she breathes, looking up at him pleadingly.

"Just tell them," Octavia insists, leaning forward.

Billie swallows. Antidote or not, Bellamy won't stop. She isn't sure she blames him, or anyone in this situation. Octavia and the grounder stare at each other for a minute, and then it starts all over again. The belt, the grounder. Again and again.

Nate steps towards her again while no one's watching, his entire face shadowed in the dim light. Billie can feel the entire drop ship trembling right along with her. "Billie," he grits out, "Leave."

"Shut up," she hisses, stepping towards Octavia. The girl doesn't even react.

"Clarke!" Raven shouts up, "He's getting worse!"

"We're running out of time," the blonde declares, rushing forward again, begging, "Which one? _Which_ one is it? If you tell us, they'll stop. Please, tell us which is the antidote and they'll stop this!"

The grounder just stumbles forwards, unsteady on his feet.

Billie steps back, pacing away and biting her fingernails. She wants to be on a peaceful walk through the woods. She wants to feel sunshine on her skin, not the dusty coolness of the dropship. She wants this to be over – she wants the storm to pass. There are only rolling clouds on the horizon.

"Clarke, you don't have to be here for this," Bellamy warns. She hasn't even noticed that he's thrown the seatbelt away, opting instead for a giant nail. Billie stares at it with a clamped jaw, ignoring the way she feels Nate's eyes burning into her.

"I'm not leaving until I get that antidote," Clarke insists.

Last chance, Bellamy says. It all takes too long. There has to be another way, Octavia pleads. No, Billie says, there's not.

She clutches her hands at her sides, unable to look away. And then the nail is plunging through the grounder's hand, blood is spraying. The grounder himself is wincing less than Bellamy, only his hand trembling as he schools his pain.

"What's taking so long?" Raven suddenly demands, closer than ever. Billie remembers that she was supposed to be watching the hatch. "He stopped breathing."

Clarke panics immediately, "What?"

The brunette snatches her arm, "He started again, but next time, he might not."

Billie runs a hand through her hair, accidentally making eye contact with Nate. They both look away quickly. "He won't tell us anything," Clarke tells the girl, and for the first time, Raven notices the scenery around her.

Angrily, she mutters, "Wanna bet?"

"What are you doing?" Billie starts to ask, but all it takes is a second for Raven to rip the wires from the wall, sparks and all. The grounder flinches away, suddenly on guard.

"Showing him something new," Raven grits out, pressing the hot wires to his skin without hesitation. Billie wants to duck her head, she wants to cover her ears. The grounder is trying to conceal his scream, but it isn't working.

Besides her, Octavia is biting her hand.

"Which one is it?" Raven yells. "Come on!"

The grounder doesn't have words. Only mangled shouts. The wires flash again, and Raven leans forward to sob, "He's all I have!"

"No more!" Octavia suddenly screams, stepping under the light.

Raven turns to her, her eyes desperate as she yells, "He's letting him die!"

There's a dangerous look in Octavia's eye. Billie stares with wide eyes, absently stepping back. Her shoulder bumps into Nate's, but before either of them can step away, Octavia is digging the poisoned knife into her arm. Fresh blood pours out immediately, and the teary-eyed girl spits, "He won't let me die."

And that's all it takes. Octavia kneels in front of him with the knife and the vials, pointing and asking, clearly in pain. The grounder just shakes, staring at her.

Billie's hand finds her mouth long before Octavia finds the antidote, and when she does, Billie stands completely frozen. Clarke takes the vial desperately, taking off towards the ladder, and Octavia and Raven follow. They stand in silence until their footsteps as they rush down the ladder fade, staring at all the blood on the floor. Bellamy wipes his face with both hands, a long sigh hissing from between his teeth.

"I'll help clean up," Billie finally murmurs, but no one moves. Her feet remain planted as she stares, and behind her, Nate gulps, his shoulders sagging. They all know they've crossed a line.

She feels dirty. She feels guilty. The grounder is avoiding their gazes, but she wonders if he knows that there's sorrow in her eyes when she stares at him.

* * *

 **Some tough decisions were made in this chapter, and Billie didn't really have much to do with initiating any of it, but she also didn't fight it. They're all beginning to realize that survival comes at a cost, and I think Billie kind of takes it so personally because Marcus has been in a leadership role for such a long time. She's seen first-hand how these kinds of decisions take a toll on someone, and it's kind of a big deal to watch the same kinds of changes happening with her and her friends. It will all process in due time, I swear.**

 **Oh, and just to clarify - Billie gets nauseous at the sight of blood. Which is kind of unfortunate, because they're constantly at war, and all.**

 **Thanks so much for sticking with this! The next chapter has a lot more original dialogue and quite a few hallucinations, so that should be interesting.** **Review/favorite/follow, please! I want to know what you thought about this update :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

"I could eat these all day," Jasper says through a mouthful of nuts.

Billie shakes her head, grinning at her friend, "Or, you could stop eating them all, and start dividing them into rations like we're supposed to."

"You, Billie Kane," Jasper points, raising his eyebrows, "Are no fun anymore."

Besides her, Monty snickers, and she just rolls her eyes. Clarke is approaching them, a distracted look in her eye as she pauses in her march across camp. Looking briefly between the three of them, the blonde says, "Hey. You guys seen Dax?"

Monty finishes chewing, glancing over his shoulder as he points, "Over there, in the meat crew."

"Meat crew," Jasper snorts once Clarke is gone, making a face at the particularly bloody table where some of the delinquents work. He shakes his head, popping another handful of nuts into his mouth, saying between bites, "We've got it good over here, my friends."

Billie barely acknowledges him, watching an exhausted looking Clarke walk away without so much as a thank you. The brunette sets down the packet she'd been filling, scrambling after her and falling in step. "Clarke, hey. Everything okay? How did the meeting go?"

"We'll see," Clarke sighs, "They want us to go find a supply depot a days walk from here."

"What, it's supposed to be stocked with supplies? Even now?" Billie frowns.

Clarke shrugs slightly, "They seem to think so. Dax, you're up."

The tall boy looks between them for a second, before his eyes slide over to the communications tent. Clarke and Billie stand in place while he leaves, looking around camp until finally Billie asks, "So you're going?"

"Well, we have to try. I don't know if your dad has anything scheduled for you yet, by the way. Everyone in the council is working overtime."

Billie takes the news as well as she can, raising her eyebrows, "And your mom?"

"I have more important things to do than talk to her," Clarke says simply, "And I'm sure the same goes for her. I don't even know what I would say."

Billie frowns a bit, but finds herself nodding, "Yeah, alright. Just, you know you can't avoid this forever, right? Sooner or later, you'll need to face her."

Clarke looks away, sighing as she inspects the camp around them, "The way I see it, the Exodus ship comes down in a few days. I can talk to her then, but for now…"

"Okay, I understand," Billie smiles slightly. "Good luck with the trip. Let me know if I can do anything to help."

"I will," is all Clarke says, and then they're parting ways.

When Billie makes her way back to the table where Monty and Jasper are sorting through nuts, it looks like the conversation has died. "What do you think they're gonna do with the grounder?" Jasper asks quietly.

Monty glances over his shoulder to stare at the drop ship while Billie joins them silently, already settling back to work. "I'd rather not think about it," Monty replies.

"It's been days since Bellamy captured him," Jasper mutters, and Billie grits her teeth a bit, knowing precisely what he's about to say next. "How long till his friends come looking?"

"Let's not think about that, either," Billie suggests under her breath.

* * *

Bellamy and Clarke are both gone. It wasn't the plan for everyone's work to gradually come to a halt, but it happens anyway.

"If you close your eyes and rub your hands together, it's like there's a fire right in front of you," Harper mumbles. She's been rubbing her hands together for a while now, her eyes drifting shut every now and then. "Even when there's not."

The fire pit they're all lounging around is completely empty. All of their firewood is still too damp to use effectively, so they're all keeping warm with extra layers.

What started as a typical meal break is becoming something stranger, but Billie is oblivious. Fox giggles unintelligibly whenever anyone says something. Monroe has been laying back, her eyes completely shut and her skin pale. Her mouth moves every so often, but she doesn't speak. Billie, herself, feels jittery. Her leg won't stop bouncing, and she keeps cracking her knuckles. Every few minutes, she reaches for another handful of those nuts. She almost feels like something is coming, something big, and she can't shake off the feeling.

"It's so warm," Harper whispers. Fox snorts, grinning widely.

"You actually feel it?" Billie frowns.

Harper keeps her eyes shut, a brief smile flitting over her pretty features. She nods a few extra times, and says, "Try it, Billie."

Billie leans forward slowly, but she finds her hands unclenching, and she starts to rub them together. It doesn't feel very warm. In fact, she's freezing.

She doesn't notice that everyone around her is stumbling. They're all talking, too loudly, too quietly. It's like everything has become dizzy for everyone at once. A girl nearby cackles as she sits on the ground, examining her hands in the glow of the graying sky. A boy runs wildly, his footsteps unsteady and his hands grasping at thin air as he tries to catch something invisible. He doesn't even have a jacket on.

Billie just keeps staring at the empty pit, willing it to come to life.

"Wilma."

Her hands stop moving, her shoulders tensing up. Her face falls blank as she looks around wildly, feeling her heart pick up. She knows that voice. She'll never forget it. Everything else seems to fall away, and it's only her and the voice.

"Look at me, Wilma."

Billie does, somehow. She finds her standing alone not far away, her feet planted evenly and her eyes boring into Billie's. She looks too calm.

"Mom?" Billie whispers, her voice shaking. She tries to stumble away, but her back only hits the chair she's sitting on, and she has to sit up, scrambling to her feet. She takes a few uneasy steps forward, hunched like she's trying to tame a wild animal. " _Mom_?"

Nat hasn't broken eye contact, but Billie watches as her face folds into a look of disapproval. This is her mom, her dead mom, she's standing right in front of her. Billie could take a few more steps and touch her, hug her…

The thought crosses her mind, and she moves forward. Her arms wrap around Nat's shoulders desperately, tears of shock filling her eyes, but it's over all too soon. Nat pushes her away, her fingernails digging into Billie's shoulders. "Don't touch me," she says sternly. It's not the way Nat used to reprimand her when she asked too many questions about Marcus, or when she was late walking home from class. It's colder. Nat never really used that voice with her.

"What?" Billie asks, aghast.

Nat's eyes narrow, and she looks Billie over, head to toe. Her teeth bare as she says, "Take a look at yourself, Billie. You are the reason everything bad happens to us. I am _dead_ because of you."

Billie blinks away tears, her face collapsing as she whines, " _What_?"

Nat drops her shoulders, and Billie stumbles back, staring at her mother with wide eyes. She looks like she used to, like Billie remembers, her hair braided tightly, her lips chapped, her dark eyes soft and painted with neat wrinkles. Except they aren't soft now, and it doesn't feel right.

But the way Billie feels doesn't matter, because she's seeing Nat. Her mother is in front of her, and she reached out and touched her. _She's there._

"Mom, I don't understand," Billie starts, tears sliding down her face.

Nat just sets her jaw, saying scornfully, "Your father and I never wanted you. And we were right not to. All of those years spent, hiding from prying eyes, we'll never get them back -"

"How are you here?" Billie stops her, her voice cracking and her eyes pleading.

"Do you even know how many times we were used against him?" Nat demands. Marcus, she's talking about Marcus. "The two of us? How many times our very existence was held over him, dangled before his eyes? You _robbed_ us, Wilma Rose. You stole away our livelihoods."

Billie steps away, her eyes wide. Nat is dead, this can't be real. But it feels real. Why is she saying these things? Nat stalks forward. Her eyes, all of the pain, the bitterness, it's all too real. And maybe she's saying these things because they're true.

"If it weren't for you, he would have everything he ever wanted, everything he worked so hard to get. He's always deserved that much," Nat says lowly. Billie whimpers. "You didn't give him a choice, and he lost it all."

"Stop it," Billie whispers.

Nat plows on, her voice rising angrily, "If it weren't for _you_ , I would be alive today. I would have happily moved on, I would be the person I always wanted to be. I would be free from you. Why couldn't I have that much?"

Billie shuts her eyes, soaking her eyelashes, but when she opens again, Nat is still there. If anything, she's much closer, glaring up at Billie. _This isn't real, these things aren't true, she's lying, she isn't here. You loved her and she loved you, this is not Nat..._

"You are a plague," Nat tells her, her voice filled with conviction. She opens her mouth again, but Billie stops her.

"Mom, stop it!" she blurts, her voice clogged from tears. Everything is falling down around her. Nat just stares at her, and Billie chokes, "I – I'm not a plague. I'm your daughter, and… And I'm alive today, not you. This isn't you."

"You're not listening to me," Nat narrows her eyes.

"I'm not gonna listen to you!" she yells desperately, "You're _dead_! You're dead and I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

Billie sniffs, wiping her sleeve against her face. It doesn't stop the flow of tears. Nat is silent, and they just stare at each other. A daughter and a version of her mother. Billie sniffs again, swallowing thickly as she whispers, "I'm so sorry."

Nat purses her lips. "Everything we lost," she says finally, much quieter. She eyes Billie carefully, her eyes narrowed, "Make sure it was worth it."

Billie's face crumples into a sob, and she clamps her hand over her mouth, lowering her head instinctively. Her chin bobs up and down as she nods hysterically, because her mom is here and her mom is accusing her of all these things and of course she wants to do anything she can to make it okay - and when she looks down, she doesn't know what Nat sees in her, but the tears are hot and they just _won't stop -_

Billie licks her lips, preparing herself to face her mother again as she lifts her head, but Nat is gone. Vanished. And it's even worse than when she was here. She looks around in alarm, her feet slipping in the mud as she tries to spin. "Mom!" she chokes, "Where are you? Mom?"

Camp is moving, it's dark, but she barely sees it. She wants to find a white and stained cardigan, gray jeans, old boots. Dark skin, thin lips and a rusted over watch. She wants to get a long look at Nat, make another promise she can only hope to keep... She just wants her mother back. But Nat is gone.

A hand touches her shoulder, and a crying Billie jumps around. It's not Nat, just Finn. He shouldn't be walking, she knows that much. But whether he's real or not, she doesn't care. Her face crumples, and she lets him walk her to a seat by one of the fires, now bright as sparks and smoke drift into the air.

"Just sit here, okay?" Finn says, his eyebrows knitted together, "Everything's alright."

Billie tugs her jacket tighter around her, still feeling the traces Nat's grip left on her shoulders.

* * *

"I know how to handle one," Billie says, frowning, "But I'm not technically trained."

"That's more than most of them can say," Bellamy grunts, but finally nods. "You're on the gate. Take the west mound today, midday shift."

"Got it," she agrees, accepting the gun he hands her. It's a bit heavier than she would like, and she has to adjust the strap to make it fit her. But it makes her feel a whole lot more secure than that machete she picked up when they were looking for Octavia.

"Hey! Where did Bellamy put you?" Sterling asks, bounding up to her.

Billie grins slightly at him in hello, still adjusting the strap. She nods her head at the gate, "Midday shift on the gate. What about you?"

Sterling makes a face, "Dunno yet. I still haven't been called over for target practice."

She smiles a bit, "Well, good luck when you are. Just point and shoot, you'll do fine."

"So, what," he says, "Are you, like, super experienced with guns or something?"

Billie snorts, shaking her head, "God, no. My dad, uh, he used to make sure I knew my way around them, since he was in the guard and all. It was more of a precaution than anything, so I'm kind of rusty."

"Sure, rusty," Sterling grins, shaking his head, "I think you're a lot less rusty than those of us who have never touched a gun. Like the grounders. Or me." Billie snickers, and he perks up, "Hey, wait, if you're on this shift, you're gonna miss the Unity Day pageant."

She lifts her eyebrows, unsure if he's actually serious, "I'm sure I'll survive. I don't need to see that stupid thing."

Sterling's eyes widen, and he gapes wildly at her. "I'll have you know, nine years ago, that little kid was me. And I was damn good at it," he says, his voice having raised remarkably in volume. He crosses his arms.

Billie laughs in disbelief, "You were not!"

"Oh my god," he protests, "I swear to you, I was."

"Hate to break this up," Monroe walks over, a grudging smile on her face, "But it's me and you on this shift, Billie. Time to go."

Billie smirks at Sterling, gripping her gun, "See you later, pageant boy."

As they walk to their station, Monroe wrinkles her nose, "He actually told you about that?" Billie's smile is answer enough, and she snorts. "I don't know why he's so proud of it. It's actually the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to you."

"Couldn't agree more," Billie says, climbing onto the mound.

They make small talk, mostly about everyone's recovery from the hallucinogen nut debacle. Billie has done plenty of thinking about her experience with that, but she hasn't talked about it with anyone. There's nothing to say. Her imagination cooked up some twisted version of her mother. Nat would have never meant any of that.

It still hurts.

The grounder has been gone for days now. They're all expecting some sort of retaliation, but it hasn't come yet. Maybe this Unity Day will pass in peace, like it's supposed to. Even so, Billie and Monroe watch the forest in front of them with apprehension.

"Billie," someone calls.

She turns over her shoulder, kneeling so she can face Clarke as she walks over. "What's up?"

The blonde grins sincerely at her, "It's your turn. Your dad's supposed to be in the council room to talk to you in five minutes. You should get going."

"What?" Billie gapes.

Clarke smiles, nodding, "Yeah. We managed to fit it in before the pageant starts. It might be cut a little short, but it's the best we can do right now."

She scrambles off the mound, letting the gun drop to her side. A wide smile crosses her face, and she pulls the rifle off her shoulders, "Thank you. I'm gonna go, right now…" She glances up at Monroe, but the girl just nods. Clarke smiles supportively at her as she jogs off to give her gun back to Bellamy.

The monitor isn't all that big, and the image cuts out every few seconds. But it's more than Billie could have ever hoped for a week ago. She sits on the edge of the seat, the headphones already firmly on her head. And she waits. Billie knows what she plans on saying to him. What they're going to talk about. He'll be on the Exodus ship, so they don't have to cover everything. But they can get some of it out of the way.

She manages to only forget half of it when her dad finally steps onto the screen, lowering himself into the chair and staring at the monitor with wide eyes. "Billie," he breathes, the relief clear in his voice even with the bad connection.

A smile forms on her face, and she leans forward, drinking in the sight of him. He looks exhausted, no product in his hair and a certain sag to his shoulders, but it's still him. She relaxes, clearing her throat, "Dad, thank god. Are you okay? How is everything?"

Marcus' lips part, and he raises his eyebrows. "Am I okay?" he asks, smiling gently, "Let's start with you, Billie."

She grins, "I'm okay, really. We're getting by down here, and things are… Well, they're good. For today, at least."

"That's good to hear," he says, and he means it. She misses him even more, now that they're only a computer monitor away. He pauses, frowning a little, "I have to be honest with you… When the wristbands -"

"Dad, it's okay," she stops him, and they look at each other for a second. _When the wristbands went out, he thought she was dead._ "How are you?"

"Busy," Marcus puffs, shaking his head wistfully. "Very busy."

She smiles a bit, nodding slowly, "But you're okay? Nothing happened after I was arrested?"

His face falls, and he clasps his hands together. Looking at her closely, he shakes his head, "No. It was retaliation for something that happened long ago. I never thought he would actually go through with it."

Billie frowns, "Who? What happened?"

Marcus sighs, reluctantly saying, "A man named Cuyler Ridley. He was arrested. The council pardoned him, but he lost certain privileges and custody of his daughter... I wasn't able to build a case against him this time, but I'm sure -"

Knowing what landed her on the drop ship doesn't really make Billie feel any more comfortable, but she smiles regardless, cutting him off. "Hey, it's alright. The ground isn't too bad. You have more important things to worry about than that asshole, anyway."

He grins despite himself, shaking his head, "I suppose you're right."

"And, dad?"

"Yes, Billie," he says.

"Whatever happened," she starts uncertainly, "With those people that died… You didn't have any other options then. And I don't really know the full story, but I can understand. Okay?"

Marcus is silent for a minute, and she watches his face flicker blockily as the radio hums. There's a deep sadness in his eyes. "I miss having you around," he tells her eventually, his voice warm. She knows that's his way of saying that he loves her. "You don't know how glad I am that you're alright."

Billie gives him a soft smile, shifting in her seat. "You too," she says, "I'll see you soon, right?"

His shoulders lift, and he nods, "The first Exodus ship is launching in the next couple of days, so yes. If all goes as planned, I'll be on it."

Behind her, the opening to the tent is pushed open. Raven ducks in, eyeing her briefly before saying apologetically, "Billie, hey. I'm supposed to start setting this up outside for the Unity Day thing. Any chance you can wrap this up?"

Billie nods to her, holding up a finger and turning back to the screen, "The pageant starts soon."

Marcus raises his eyebrows, agreeing, "It does. I should go, I'm late enough as it is."

"Yeah, of course," Billie nods, and he starts to get up. She doesn't move from her seat, instead just watching him for a moment before saying, "Hey, dad? You're gonna love it down here."

Marcus leans towards her again, smiling, "I'll see you soon, Billie. Stay safe down there."

"Love you," she says, and then he's standing. With a short pause, he steps away from the screen, until the only thing on the other end of the monitor is an empty chair. Billie purses her lips, letting her smile fall but not the feeling of relief. Finally, she lets the headset drop to the table, and she climbs to her feet.

Raven is standing outside, waiting. "We're done. Thanks, Raven," Billie says to her.

"You got it," the girl says with a friendly grin.

Yeah, things are going good.

* * *

 **I hope you liked the new (longer)** **chapter! Writing this was super fun.** **I'll update again hopefully next weekend :)**

 **Follow/favorite/review pleeeease! It would mean a ton to know how you're liking the way things are turning out.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Billie is one of the only ones still stationed on the wall. It's dark now, and her back faces the party behind her, lively and loud. The fires seem to burn brighter tonight, but she doesn't itch to go join her friends in the crowd. She's in a good enough mood that she doesn't need to be drunk.

A dark head of hair slips through the gate so quietly that it almost goes unnoticed by her. But just because she's happy, doesn't mean she's unfocused. She frowns down at him, calling to stop him, "Finn, wait. What are you leaving for?"

The boy looks up at her strangely, and she raises her eyebrows expectantly. After a second, he shrugs, "I need to clear my head. Be back in a while."

"Alright," Billie says doubtfully. Nevertheless, she steps back to her post, watching as his back retreats into the shadows. She watches where he came from until the sound of his footsteps fades, and then she shakes her head.

She feels important up here. And she has a good view of the forest around her, the trees and moss, the paths they've dug. She doesn't care that her actual shift has been over for hours.

"Don't your eyes hurt?"

Billie turns, looking down to see Sterling wandering over, a tin of moonshine in his hands. From the looks of it, Monty outdid himself this time. "What?"

"From all the looking you're doing," he tells her confidently, "Being on watch."

She snorts. Shaking her head, she sits on the edge of the mound, swinging her gun around so it's safely on her back. "That's a good question, Sterling, I dunno," she says sarcastically.

Sterling smiles widely, squinting as he lifts the cup, "I brought you something."

Billie takes it, peering down at the clear liquid. "How much of this stuff did they make?" He gives a nonchalant shrug, leaning back against the mound besides her. "Okay, how about this," she proposes, looking over at him to find him looking right back. "How much of this stuff have you had?"

Sterling lifts his eyebrows as if he's about to make some sort of intelligent statement. "That is nothing for you to be concerned about…" he says, trailing off when she starts laughing. A full grin of triumph spreads on his lips, and he beams up at her, "C'mon, Billie! It's Unity Day. Look around, you're too sober for this."

"Hey, I see you over there," she tells him, tossing a nod in the direction of the party. "What are you, some sort of king of the drinking games?"

"I like to think I'm pretty good," Sterling replies proudly.

"Pageant boy gone troublemaker," Billie jabs, downing the cup in one giant sip. It burns against her throat, and she smacks her lips. "Who knew?"

"Well, I'm a man of many faces. Of faces? Of names," Sterling tells her, his voice drawling as he stumbles through the sentence. He crosses his arms, his eyes finding the stars above them, and she raises her eyebrows dubiously as he blindly continues, "And one of them… has a pretty big crush on this girl, Billie Kane. And he's also supposed to wait until he's not drunk to tell her for real, but…"

Billie averts her gaze, staring down at the bottom of her empty cup. A part of her hopes that Sterling is too drunk off his ass to notice her blush, but another part couldn't care less.

A grin forms on her lips despite herself, and she slides off the mound, her boots hitting the dirt. Looping her arm through his and leaning towards him, she remarks, "Well, Billie Kane can't wait." Sterling gapes at her, a smile playing at his lips, but she just elbows him, grinning as they pull away from the wall. "But until then, let's get some more drinks."

He stumbles after her, stammering his agreement.

Billie has never really felt immortal, but tonight, time feels like it's stopped. There's nothing in the world but her, the rest of her friends, and the boy linked to her arm. Unity Day has never been better, in her eyes. She refills her cup until she feels a little unsteady on her feet as she and Sterling drag each other around, making a decent attempt at participating in everything that's going on around them.

She feels, for maybe the first time, like a real part of something. The hundred around her are just as carefree as she feels and more inclusive than they've ever been, and she realizes that they're all the same. They're all family.

Billie throws her arms towards the sky along with everyone else when Jasper pumps a fresh keg of moonshine over his head. She laughs and whoops and receives a friendly shove from someone she doesn't know. Sterling leans over to yell in her ear, his voice drowned out by the noise around them, and Billie just laughs. Because she's content, she's enjoying herself. She feels like she belongs.

But, like everything always does, the party comes to a grinding halt.

"Kane!" Bellamy shouts, standing just outside the crowd. She finds him after a second, frowning as he jerks his head to the side, and exchanges a confused look with Sterling.

"Uh, be right back," she yells, parting from the crowd. Raven and Jasper stand behind him, guns hanging over their shoulders and a certain restlessness to their stances. Frowning, she asks, "What's going on?"

"How many drinks have you had?" Bellamy asks, his eyes narrowed as he watches her.

"Four," she replies tentatively, tempted to ask what's going on again.

He sighs, his eyes fluttering slightly. "Alright, let it wear off while we walk. You're coming with us; grab a gun," he tells her, voice deep, "Gate in five."

Looking between three completely serious faces, Billie finally gives a nod. Nervously, she runs her hands against her pants and turns around, taking in the party from a distance. Faces illuminated by the fire race around, completely oblivious to whatever's been going on.

Sterling is standing to the side, his hands shoved in his pockets as he waits patiently. He meets her gaze as she approaches him, glancing over her shoulder to where Bellamy and the others are presumably still hovering. She toys with the loose zipper of her jacket, feeling much less ecstatic than she was just moments ago as she tells him, "I've gotta go."

He frowns immediately, his green eyes widening. "What? Did something happen?"

"Bellamy didn't say," she replies, refusing to let her voice waver.

Sterling seems to digest her words slowly. He mulls over it for a second, his eyes shifting from the ground to look at her closely. She doesn't blame him for looking disappointed. Quietly, he says, "Alright, yeah, be careful. That means come back alive, okay? Please?"

Billie smiles at him, and the thought of hugging him crosses her mind. So does the thought of kissing him, but she stows both away. Instead, she just dips her head, "You got it. I'll see you later, Sterling. Alive."

"Alive," he repeats as she steps away. Somehow, that suffices as a goodbye. They smile softly at each other, and, acutely aware of the uneasiness in her gut, Billie turns to find a gun.

* * *

Billie doesn't like this. Not at all.

The grounder they just finished torturing is standing extremely close to Octavia, looking very different from when he was half-naked and covered in blood in the top of the drop ship. Finn stands a distance away from them, looking all too nervous for the boy who was supposed to have confidence in a peace agreement.

Well, she's nervous, too.

There are horses, and while Jasper is in awe of them, Billie doesn't have time to be. Not when she promised Sterling she'd come back _alive,_ and there are three very large grounders standing guard behind their leader. Bellamy said that he was under the impression there were no weapons. Looks like they all thought wrong.

"Grounder princess looks pissed," Raven remarks, peering down her scope. Billie squints, taking in the woman's tense posture. Cloaked in animal furs and leather and decorated with war paint, she sends a feeling of unease directly into Billie's stomach. She looks lethal, but Billie supposes she shouldn't be that surprised.

"Our princess has that effect," Bellamy grunts in response.

The conversation on the bridge is too quiet to listen in on, and they only have a decent view of the grounders. Billie doesn't like it. But if she wants peace, and she does want peace, she'll have to try.

"Oh, no," Jasper suddenly mutters, aghast, "No, this is bad."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bellamy growls, leaning over. Billie glances between them, from Jasper's wide eyes to across the river. Nothing has changed on the bridge, so she lifts her gun to look down the scope. She doesn't see anything.

"There are grounders in the trees," Jasper breathes, his shoulders trembling.

"What?" Raven snaps. "Are you sure?"

Bellamy follows Billie's lead, lifting his gun. "Where? I don't see anything."

It flashes for a split second. Something in the trees moves, but it's only slight, and she can't be sure. But before she can point anything out, beside her, Jasper is ducking forward, his lanky footsteps carrying him onto the muddy riverbank. "They're gonna shoot. Clarke, run!"

Billie looks, wide-eyed, between Clarke's golden hair as she wildly spins around and the trees surrounding them. Jasper fires off an entire round into the trees, and she snaps out of her daze, snatching her gun up in her arms and leaning forward. Maybe she didn't believe his claims then, but she does now. A heavily camouflaged body catapults from the trees, dead.

"Shit," she hisses, gripping her gun tightly as she looks for more movement. This time, it's easier. Her fingers squeeze the trigger, and she barely sees the target go down before she's searching wildly for another.

"Clarke, get down!" she hears Finn yell.

It all happens so fast. Raven is urging them back, "Go! Go!"

Billie has emptied her magazine. The trigger clicks blandly, and she glances over her shoulder, to where Raven is urging her backwards. She delves back into the cover of the trees, grabbing hold of Jasper and dragging him with her. "Faster," she calls.

Billie's feet carry her to the front, pushing past Raven. All she has to do is run straight, she knows the way. The forest around her seems like it wants to slow her down, branches ducking in her way and puddles looming in her path. She dodges the obstacles as deftly as she can, twigs whipping her face and murky water splashing up the back of her legs. An image of home is fresh in her mind, and she pushes herself further, her calves burning.

They don't stop until they're there, back at the drop ship, back where it's safe. If anything, the peace meeting has made things worse. Billie stops when she sees torches, catching herself against a tree. Leaning against it, she lets her eyes drift shut. And she waits, struggling to regain her breath.

Eventually, Bellamy demands, "You got something to say?"

Finn grits his teeth, turning to Clarke furiously. "I told you, no guns!"

The blonde is quick to reply, "I told _you_ , we couldn't trust the grounders. I was right!"

"So why didn't you tell _me_ what you were up to?" Raven asks scornfully, stepping forward. Finn whirls around to face her.

"I tried, but you were too busy making bullets for your guns!" he snarls.

"You're lucky she brought that!" Bellamy interrupts, "They came there to kill you, Finn."

Finn is desperate. His voice is raw. He's lost. "You don't know that – Jasper fired the first shot!"

Billie's head is pounding. If only they'd waited, if only they had a chance to come up with a better plan. If only things would stop going wrong at every turn. She turns away, unwilling to stay and listen anymore. There's nothing more to be said.

She isn't sure where she ends up, somewhere along the edge of the wall. She walks until she comes face to face with a tree, letting her head rest roughly against the bark. "Damn it," she whispers to herself.

A sound catches her attention. Tiredly, she looks up, her eyes somehow knowing to look straight to the sky.

There's a bright light in the sky, parting the atmosphere as it rockets towards the ground. Billie steps away from the tree in a daze, watching as it grows larger and larger, until she can no longer mistake it for anything _but_ the Exodus ship.

Billie moves forward, walking until she has an unobstructed view. Something's going wrong. She doesn't pinpoint it until the launch ship comes dangerously close to the mountains below it, and then it's too late. No warning. She could have never been prepared.

It soars at full speed into the valley. Billie sees the flash, feels the vibration. A cloud rises, looming, fiery. There is no Exodus ship, and Marcus – Marcus was on that.

Marcus Kane is gone.

A wave of numbness washes over Billie. Her heart stops beating, her blood running ice cold. She can't hear anything, can't focus. Everything is spinning, everything but the giant, monstrous cloud of ashes that rises from the crash site. He's dead, no more. Buried above the ground, but beneath layers of ashes and rubble, blood and smoke. He didn't make it. There's no way he could have.

The first sob escapes her parted lips, and her feet stumble forward, carrying her towards the top of the ravine. The cloud just keeps growing. And it's all too real.

Her arm loops around a tree, and her knees give out. She crouches there, hugging herself to the tree, wretched sobs wracking her body. She can't breathe, she _won't_ breathe. Tears pour down her face, but she can't feel them. Everything is numb. She just digs her fingers into the dirt and weeps. Her father died right before her eyes, she talked to him just this morning…

Billie can't feel anything. Not the dirt beneath her or the young tree struggling to uphold her weight. Not the hot tears pooling down her cheeks, sliding into her hair.

She doesn't know how, but she lost Marcus. And she absolutely hates the ground.

* * *

 **Okay, so this update has been delayed for a long time. If anyone was waiting, I'm sorry! It wasn't my intention. School has been overwhelming, and I was dissatisfied with this chapter for the longest time (I still sort of am, but I figured I'd just get it over with and post it anyway). But I should be back to updating this more regularly!**

 **Anyway, thank you so much for reading this story! It means so much that you've taken the time to even get this far. I hope you liked this chapter even though I don't, lol :)**

 **Follow/favorite/review, please! And a giant thank you to those of you who already have!**

 **Aileen O'Neill: Thank you so much! I love Marcus and Billie's relationship, too, even if he is kind of an asshole in the beginning of Season One (I blame it on him dealing with the loss of Billie lol). Your review means a ton! I'd love to hear what you think about new updates :)**

 **paintedbywords: Thank you so much for reviewing! It's so great to hear that you like it :) Miller is one of my favorites, too, which is the reason I made him part of this to begin with. I swear he's coming back into Billie's life in the next chapter or two. I looooove Bellamy's character and Bellamy/OC stories, but I guess the main reason that wasn't the focus of this story is because when I started writing, I wasn't really confident that I could do his character justice. They do become good friends though! And about Billie's personality, I also agree that it's not in her immediate nature to be badass, haha. They've been on the ground for something like two weeks, and I think it still gets overwhelming at times. She'll have her ups and downs (what just happened at the end of this chapter is probably the worst of it), but Season 2 especially is a really kickass season for everyone, and that's not excluding Billie. Thanks so much again for reviewing! (Didn't intend for this response to be so long lol)**

 **Kergam:** **OOOOOH MY GOSH! I can't put into words how much your review warmed my heart. Everything you talked about is what I originally had in mind for the story, and it means so much that you enjoy it! Thank you** **so very much 3**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

Billie takes one day.

One day to keep to herself, to tell herself not to think about it, to end up remembering anyway. She doesn't want to return to camp, or go with the rest of the search party to check out the crash landing. She's never liked the idea of graveyards.

Bellamy gives her a gun, just before they leave. He doesn't ask if she's alright, or if she wants to come – her silence must have already tipped him off. Instead, he just tells her that the gun only has five rounds, and she shouldn't go anywhere; they still need her here.

When she catches a glimpse of Clarke, the girl is trudging quietly, her red-rimmed eyes looking at nothing but the path in front of her.

Billie doesn't really know if the kids on watch know she's out here, but she isn't lingering close enough around the gate to really have to worry about it. She likes to think that she's explored these nearby woods enough that she can easily find her way home. The damp ground and overcast skies are soothing somehow, and now that darkness has fallen completely, she feels invisible. It's a nice feeling.

She can't get the Exodus ship out of her mind, what it must look like now. Who else was on it? No matter how many names she can think of, more tallies for that page in Lincoln's book that Octavia showed her, everything always drifts back to Marcus.

He was never a great dad, never perfect. He wasn't even always around for her. But he cared, he always had, just the sight of him made Billie feel like she belonged, even if it was with just another outcast. They had each other to fall back onto to, when everything else was chipping away.

Once, Billie tripped and sprained her ankle while she was trying to chase Nate down Alpha's hallways. Marcus gripped her shoulder and walked her all the way to Medical. Whenever disgruntled mobs in the mess hall started to block the exits, Marcus would grip her hand and pull her out of it. And she used to wait up all night, stirring his tea to keep it warm until he would finally stumble home from work. He helped her study the flashcards she would sometimes make for school. She used to pour over Ark Laws, if only so he would have someone around to rant to.

Billie doesn't have that anymore. Her dad is gone, and she doesn't think she'll ever come to terms with it. But the ground isn't the nourishing home that it had always been made out to be, and Billie knows that she has no time to dwell on it. The hands on the clock are spinning, zeroing in on her deadline.

By the time she makes it to the top of the ravine by camp, she immediately finds a difference. The uneasy conversations drifting over the walls, the shift of guards between duty, the popping gunshots of target practice – the sounds have all died down, like a candle snuffed out, encasing everything in darkness. The torches illuminate a crowded wall full of hunched backs and attentive faces. The air seems thicker.

The tension snaps suddenly, without warning. "Somebody hit the trip wire!"

She hears it, too, the unmistakable clank of two of their tins scraping together. Her heart plummets, her mind immediately zeroing in on a mental image of a grounder, caked in muddy camouflage and bearing a blood-stained axe. By the sounds of it, that's what everyone else thinks of, too.

She swings her rifle around, gripping it as she searches the trees. The forest around her is still, and she feels as though she would recognize signs of a real attack. This doesn't do anything to reassure her. Five rounds, she reminds herself, adjusting her fingers around her weapon.

Inside the walls, her people are scattering and yelling, scrambling about as they peer into the woods around them. Before Billie can even consider where she wants to go, a round of shots are fired, presumably into the trees. Her hair stands on end, and she freezes, waiting for some sort of retaliation. There is none.

Grinding her teeth, Billie delves into the trees, her aching feet carrying her to where she knows the trip wire is. The torches barely beat her there, and she descends into the clearing, adjusting her grip on the gun. Octavia and Connor show their faces first, the younger Blake making eye contact briefly before taking another cautious step.

The figure is hunched on the ground, his back bloody. Billie moves forward slowly, watching with her breath caught in her throat as Octavia ducks down, reaching out a surprisingly steady hand.

A single tap is all it takes, and he's scrambling away, heaving in fear.

Billie lifts her gun out of instinct, ready to use it, before the boy lifts his face. It takes her a second, a long second, for recognition to sink in. Behind her, Derek whispers, "Oh my god…"

Billie swings the gun over her shoulder, taking a few steps forward so she can stand on the opposite side of him. His face is beaten, blood pooling around his swollen eyes as he glances up to her, his gasping breaths shallow. His shoulders are shaking as he lifts his hands in defeat, trying to shrink into the ground. She just gapes at him, her voice weighed down with disbelief as she demands, "Murphy?"

* * *

It wasn't too long ago that Billie hated John Murphy with every fiber of her being. In fact, she practically forgot all about him, in light of recent events. The banished boy was thought to be dead.

And now he's here, worse than dead. He's currently curled up against the wall of the drop ship, his hands clasped together as he trembles wildly. Blackened blood mats his skin, clumps across fresh cuts, stains the tears in his clothes. His eyes are squeezed shut. She doesn't know how she feels about him right now, but she sure as hell isn't happy about his sudden appearance, or the story that accompanies it. The sight of him, crumpled up and bleeding on the floor, is enough to make her sick to her stomach.

"Where is he?" The flaps are shoved open, and Bellamy storms inside, glowering down at Murphy. Clarke follows, but Billie can only give her a fleeting look, and then it's back to the wounded boy on the floor. Bellamy grunts, "Everyone but Connor and Derek, out. Now!"

Billie snorts quietly. Regardless of Bellamy's orders, she leans further back in her chair and roughly runs the edge of the stone against her knife. As the teenagers shuffle out of the drop ship, Bellamy gives her a disapproving look, but doesn't argue.

"He claims he was with the grounders," Derek tells Bellamy, looking down on Murphy.

"We caught him trying to sneak back into camp," Connor adds, and the boy in question shakes his head miserably. His eyes barely drift open.

"I wasn't sneaking," he manages to say, "I was running from the grounders."

Bellamy takes a breath, demanding, "Anyone see grounders?"

Billie stuffs the stone in her pocket, zipping it up and leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, knife in hand. She lifts her head so she can look at Bellamy, supplying dryly, "There were none."

"Well, in that case," Bellamy starts to say, lifting up his gun. His shoulders tense as he looks down the scope, his face scrunched up in anger. Murphy just squirms on the floor, unable to even attempt an escape, but Finn knocks the rifle away from Bellamy before he can shoot.

"Hey, what the hell's wrong with you?" he shouts, his voice strained.

"We were clear on what would happen if he came back," Bellamy growls, moving for his gun again. Finn steps in the way, and Clarke looks between them with wide eyes. Billie climbs to a slow stand, stepping carefully away from her corner to join everyone else. Her heart drums rapidly in her chest, but she doesn't make a move to stand against Bellamy with Finn. She glances to Murphy, whose eyes have drifted shut. The shaking has picked up again.

"No! If he was with the grounders, then he knows things that can help us," Finn protests.

"Help us?" Bellamy repeats, his eyebrows high, "We hanged him, we banished him, and now we're gonna kill him. Get the hell out of my way."

"No, Finn's right," Clarke says, pushing past Bellamy to kneel next to Murphy.

"Like hell he is!" Bellamy yells, "Clarke, think about Charlotte."

"I _am_ thinking about her," she responds, and Billie blinks, but keeps her mouth shut. "But what happened to Charlotte was as much our fault as his."

Billie shuffles forward to watch as Clarke surveys Murphy's shaking fingers, trying to push back the sickened feeling in her stomach. "He's telling the truth," the blonde admits, frowning deeply, "His fingernails were torn off. They tortured him."

Billie has to turn away to stop the bile from rising in her throat, and she covers her mouth with her sleeve. When she opens her eyes again, it's to Finn leaning towards Bellamy, commenting snidely, "You and the grounders should compare notes."

"Drop it, Finn," Billie snaps irritably.

"The grounders know we're at war," Bellamy argues, turning to the crippled boy on the floor, "What did you tell them about us?"

Murphy swallows, shutting his eyes again. He takes a deep breath, and then, "Everything."

* * *

"You're clear for symptoms," Clarke mutters, "I'm not sure how much that actually means."

Billie doesn't answer. She already feels clammy, but that's probably just fear. The grounders tortured Murphy and sent him running with a deadly sickness, and now he's here. They're all at risk of something completely out of their control.

Clarke steps back, coughing a bit as she rubs at her eyes. Her skin is a deadly white, dripping in sweat, and there are still stains of blood clouding her glazed over eyes. "You should go," Clarke says, "They probably need you on the wall, but if you feel anything…"

"Come here right away, I know," Billie answers, her voice quiet through the fabric of her shirt pulled over her face. She promptly falls silent again, not once making a move to leave. The blonde doesn't look surprised at her reluctance to go. After a long minute, Billie clears her throat, "I'm sorry I wasn't around yesterday. I should've been in camp, or something."

Clarke just sighs, her eyes dropping to the floor. She doesn't look upset anymore, just tired. Raising her eyebrows, she says quietly, "We all needed space yesterday, Billie, I understand."

Billie feels like she should start crying, but she doesn't _want_ to. Instead, she drums her fingers against her knees, staring intently at the stains on the floor of the drop ship. She thinks that's about as close to exchanging real sympathies as they're going to get. "Thank you," she starts slowly, "For making time for me and my dad to talk. I don't know how I would feel if I never…"

Clarke's eyes are sad, but she doesn't move any closer. "I'm sorry about your dad, Billie."

"I'm sorry, too," Billie murmurs, sliding off the bench and coming to a stand. They look at each other sadly for a second before Clarke just nods, turning away to rinse the rag again. Billie lifts the hatch, staring down the ladder for a moment before climbing down.

* * *

"Have you eaten?" Monroe asks.

Billie squints into the trees. Nope.

The girl next to her sighs, grumbling under her breath. "Give me your gun, Billie."

"What?" she asks.

Monroe looks completely serious, turning to her with a set jaw. She nods at the rifle in Billie's arms, saying brusquely, "Give it to me."

"You're kidding, right?" Billie shakes her head with a scoff, turning back to the trees. She crosses her arms, letting her gun fall onto her shoulder that's farthest from Monroe. "This is my shift, too. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not hungry. Relax."

Her friend groans, turning to her with evident frustration. "Relax? People are getting sick all around us, and just because you don't have symptoms, doesn't mean you can afford to go without eating. So stop being stubborn, give me your gun, and get your ass off the wall," she commands, her lip curling slightly. "I'm trying to help here, Billie."

Billie grinds her teeth together, closely watching one tree in particular throughout the entire lecture. That might have been the longest sentence to ever come from Monroe's mouth. She can feel the ginger glaring at the side of her head, and after a second, she straightens. Spinning to face the girl, she passes over her gun, and says dryly, "I'll be back."

"I'm sure you will," Monroe tells her as she climbs down the mound, landing in the dirt with a practiced movement.

Camp is particularly empty, more than half of the hundred stowed away in the drop ship for Clarke's quarantine zone. The remaining kids are on edge. Billie strides up to the rations, digging into a container or apples that a party scavenged from what must've once been an orchard not too far away. She forces herself to take a giant bite of the fruit. She turns in a full circle, preparing to walk back to the wall, but a bright orange lump on the ground catches her attention, and holds it. It's Monty, curled up on one of the seats from the drop ship, looking sleep-deprived and severely irritated as he picks at the pack between his feet.

"Hey. What are you doing out here?" Billie approaches him. Monty's head snaps up in surprise, his face falling immediately when he sees her. His eyes droop sympathetically as he smiles sadly at her, extending his arms to offer a hug. Billie shakes her head, smiling softly, "Thanks, Monty, but I'm good."

"I highly doubt that," Monty says, but he's not accusing her of anything. He drops his arms and pulls his blanket tighter around his shoulders, while Billie takes the seat next to him. She sighs at the ground under her feet, shrugging a bit.

"Yeah. I just… We all have better things to be doing than dwelling on things we can't control, you know? I'm okay for now, I swear," Billie tells him, shrugging a bit, and Monty seems to accept this answer. For a moment, neither of them incite a new conversation, until she squints at him closely. He isn't giving her outright pitiful looks anymore, but there's still a sadness in his eyes that she's all too familiar with. "Monty, your parents…"

"Weren't supposed to be on the Exodus ship," he assures her, his shoulders slumped, "But Raven hasn't been able to make contact with the Ark again, so… I guess I don't know."

Billie wonders if it's better to not know, but she can't bring herself to ask. Instead, she sighs, taking a bite of her apple and asking conversationally, "So, what _are_ you doing out here?"

"Jasper kicked me out," Monty says matter-of-factly.

Her eyes widen, and she frowns incredulously. Through a mouth-full of fruit, she gapes, "What?"

The boy in front of her lifts his eyebrows, continuing in his sarcastic tirade. "Didn't you hear? I'm not good enough for him anymore."

A disgruntled voice cuts directly into their discussion, echoing throughout camp. "Nobody touch him!"

Billie freezes up slightly, instinctively reaching for the gun that isn't there. She leans around her seat to see the other side of camp, where a rapidly growing mob swirls around the drop ship. Next to the ramp, Bellamy swings out an arm to point inside, and a bloody-nosed kid stumbles forward upon his command, guns trained on his back. Billie's hair stands on end as she frowns, following the kid's movement as Bellamy barks, "Get to the drop ship, now!"

"This doesn't look good," Monty says, and she follows his lead as he stands.

She turns away, stalking to the posts by the wall. She snatches up a gun and jogs back to Monty's side, just in time for the entire crowd to recoil. Screams fill the air, rifles click as they're pointed back and forth. The volume rises, fights break out. In front of Billie, some girl she doesn't know lifts her loaded weapon towards a bloody-faced boy.

"Hey, put that down!" she protests, storming forward.

The girl doesn't react, just brandishing the barrel of the rifle at his chest as she screams for him to get back, and Billie reaches for her own gun. She roughly prods the girl's shoulder with it, yelling harshly, "Put the damn gun down!"

Her heart is racing. The girl turns incredulously, fury in her eyes, but Billie's gun is knocked from her hands without notice. Finn appears in front of her, his eyes desperate as he shouts, "Billie, no!"

She clenches her gun, but doesn't raise it again. "Finn, she was -"

Her friend is already disappearing in the crowd, but she catches a glimpse of his face as he whirls around to yell back, "It doesn't matter!"

Three steady shots are fired, and every muscle in Billie's body tenses. She spins around wildly, searching the ground for a body, but there isn't one. She finds Clarke on the ramp of the drop ship, looking like she's barely supporting her own weight. Her rifle drops to her side, and she takes a few long steps forward.

The screaming stops, and Billie swallows, blinking up at her friend. "This is exactly what the grounders want," Clarke tells everyone, her voice bleary. "Don't you see that? They don't have to kill us, if we kill each other first."

"They don't have to kill us if we all catch the virus," an unfamiliar boy launches forward, pointing his gun, "Get back in the damn drop ship!"

Bellamy jumps forward, snatching the boy's weapon from his hands and knocking him back. Billie purses her lips, watching at the kid scrambles back. "Not to state the obvious," Bellamy says, "but your quarantine isn't working."

* * *

First light. That's when the grounders will come, storming their walls and gliding through camp. Bodies and blood beneath their feet, torches and spears raised above their heads. They have one night. One night to prepare for the end of their lives.

"Five to a clip, let's go," Bellamy grunts, "We need to get these guns on the wall."

Beside her, Monty lifts his head. "Why just five?"

"We're running out of gunpowder," Raven replies quietly, the annoyance clear in her tone. Monty's shoulders sag, and Billie forces herself to stiffen her lip, packing another round into the gun she's working on. She leans across the table and passes it to Bellamy. There's a muscle bouncing in his jaw as he works, his eyes broodier than storm clouds.

"God, we're so dead," Harper mutters.

"Hey, don't worry," Jasper tells her, and Billie can practically feel the fake confidence oozing out of him. Like Monty said, Jasper's ego is painstakingly inflated, and it causes her irritation to spike. He shows off an earnest grin, nodding reassuringly as he says, "I've got your back."

Billie wraps her fingers around another handful of bullets, sharing an acidic look with Monty. Her friend scoffs openly, while she shakes her head to herself, sighing. Harper's eyes shoot over to her, and the girl frowns defensively as she hisses, "What?"

Jasper, of course, has caught on. He stands starkly, looking between them with his eyebrows raised as he moodily asks Monty, "Hey, you got something to say?"

"Guys," Raven interjects coolly, her hands deftly sorting through the equipment on the table. She hardly lifts her gaze. "Stay focused. We're doing good, we need as many rounds done by dawn as we can."

"It won't matter if there's no one left who can shoot," Finn ducks into the tent suddenly, leaning across the table. His eyes flick over the guns in front of them, and then around the table. The look in his eyes makes Billie's hands fall still, and she drops the gun against the table. After a short delay, he asks earnestly, "What do we need to build a bomb?"

Billie's eyes widen in shock, but Raven just lifts her chin, her eyes flitting over the boy as she comments, "Depends on what you're trying to blow up."

Finn barely hesitates. "How about a bridge?"

Billie props her arms up against the table, frowning warily. Slowly, she asks, "Finn, spit it out. What are you thinking?"

"Murphy says he crossed a bridge on his way back from the grounders camp," he recounts avidly. Billie's face falls in recognition, and she stares at him with apprehension. "Sound familiar?"

"Yeah, so what?" Bellamy says after a second.

"So, the virus is fast, it's already getting better. Blowing the bridge won't stop the attack, but the longer we can delay it, the more of us will be able to fight," Finn explains.

Billie finds herself wondering when Spacewalker got so creative.

"Even if Murphy's telling the truth, and that's a _big_ 'if,' that bridge has survived a nuclear war and ninety-seven years of weather," Bellamy tells him, frowning.

There's a long pause as Finn's hopeful gaze clashes with Bellamy's doubtful look. Billie looks between everyone else, to Monty who has his face screwed up in concentration, to Harper who stares at Finn with a curious admiration. Raven stares at the table, thinking hard as she tilts her head, nodding a bit, "It won't survive me."

Billie takes a second to stare at the mechanic in awe, watching as she mulls over a few details in her head. There's a spark in her eyes, and Billie has a feeling it's going to save them all.

"You think you can do it?" Bellamy asks, skeptical.

Raven steps away from the table, tugging on her gloves. "We're gonna need that hydrazine," she tells him in answer, "A lot of it."

"Hydrazine?" Billie asks, "The stuff you found at the crash site?"

"If I can get there and back by nightfall, we have a shot at this," Raven nods, looking between everyone. Bellamy is frowning deeply at the ground, but Billie finds herself following along with the girl's plan. They need every gunner they can get.

Finally, Bellamy looks up. "How soon can we leave?"

* * *

 **I seriously love Monty. His dynamic with Billie and their teamwork was so fun and seemed so natural to write, and there will definitely be more of that to come. Billie has been speaking up and acting out more and more, and I think she's finally hit a turning point. Let me know what you think!**

 **Again, thanks so much for reading this story! To those of you who followed or favorited, THANK YOU! It means a ton :)**

 **painted by words: I'm so glad you liked it! Thanks so much :)**

 **ToshimiOkami: Thank you SO MUCH! Your review was so sweet, and it really means a lot that you took the time to write it. It brightened my day when I saw it, seriously! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and all of the updates in the future :)**


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